Allegiance to The King
by Ready To Flyxxx
Summary: Somewhat AU - Two Kingdoms are at odds, and with an impending war hanging over their citizens heads, well, things have never been quite so disorderly. It doesn't help that The Candy Kingdom's most prized knight, Fionna the Human, has been taken hostage. After waking up in the Vampire King's realm, the King himself has quite the offer for her.
1. Allegiance

The Land of Aaa has always been divided up among noble families. Since the Dawn of Time, the lands have been ruled over by endless Kings, Queens, Nobles and Duchies, and, of course, by Princes and Princesses alike. It's beautiful really, the way all of these creatures ruled over the lands together, with barely a war to their names. No one ever looked over at the Icy Mountains that lay in the North, and claimed them for themselves while at their own feet, sat a kingdom of their own, stretching on for miles in every direction. There was never a monarch who sat upon their throne in a haze of jealousy, looking out towards the fiery lava beds scattered in the South lands, plotting- seeking-and-craving for what they didn't have. No, every ruler had its place, and there was a place for every ruler. But of course, I suppose there's always an exception...

Right, but I'm sure none of you wish to hear such stale stories about royalty and their struggles. Don't worry, I understand, really. Politics and positions of power don't tend to tickle the fancy of many...tickle the fancy? Is that something you young kids say nowadays? I tend to forget the 'hip' and 'cool' sayings - I've lived in the land of Aaa for far too long.

...It feels like forever since I last spoke with an audience so willing to hear my tales.

You _do_ want to hear them, don't you? Oh, _come on!_ I promise I'll make it interesting and fun, and you'll never want it to end! I'll give you a story packed with adventure and excitement; romance and love; even the supernatural, if you'd like. What do you say? Okay, fine I will warn you that this story does contain talk about the royals. The Land of Aaa thrives on its monarchies, after all, and what kind of story would it be without that?

So sit back, and listen well, for this is a tale of the Candy Kingdom, The Land of Aaa, and how they almost fell victim to the Night- O- Sphere's reign.

But then again...that's only what the story appears on the surface.

 **Allegiance to The King**

Fionna woke up with a gash in her chest.

Normally, Fionna might have played it off as a trick of the eyes, after all, she often fell asleep after eating too many bowls of spaghetti, and the sauce would linger on her shirt for the rest of the night, looking like a picture straight out of a horror film. That's what the gash looked like anyway: a stain of red spaghetti sauce. Only, after training under the watchful eye of her elder sister Cake, who she might add was a Cat, she knew better.

And of course, there was the fact that it hurt like Hell.

"What the stuff!?" Fionna cried, wincing as a sharp jab of pain prickled across her skin. She tried standing up, but as she did a wave of vertigo crashed over her body, causing her to keel over. The room suddenly began to look very blurry, and Fionna barely had enough time to register the fact that she had no idea where the heck she was, before she promptly passed out.

This was the start of what she believed was the worst day in her life.

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"This is her?" a voice asked skeptically, peering down at the sight of the girl's limp body. She was an averaged sized girl, maybe on the short side, with pale skin and golden hair that peeked through what appeared to be a white bunny hat. She was wearing a light blue dress that swept to the floor in a tsunami of fabric, almost drowning her.

"Yup," came another, "she's the one. Fionna the Human, otherwise known as Prince Gumball's prized knight."

"She looks pathetic."

"What else would you expect from the Candy Kingdom?" A round of laughter followed. "No but seriously, why would our King want _her?_ "

"Glob knows."

"Maybe he wants her as his dinner? I bet she tastes _delicious!_ " A slapping sound echoed throughout the room's expanse. "Ow! What was that for!?"

"You know what for! If he heard you talking about stealing his meal, you'd be killed - _heck_ , I'd probably be fed to the rats for even being near you!"

The first voice scoffed. "You're ridiculous."

"No he's not," came a new voice, followed by the sound of footsteps. They stopped as soon as they neared the girl. "In fact he's right. You two aren't giving me a reason to hurt you, are you?"

"N-no sir!"

"Good - now get out!"

"Yes my liege!" the two original voices screamed, before scrambling away, leaving the room as fast as they could.

On the ground, the girl trembled in her sleep. Her captor smiled. "Welcome, Fionna the Human, to my humble abode," he began. "I'm sure you'll learn to love it here. Not that you have much of a choice."

He laughed then, sick and cold, and everything a demon could hope to sound like.

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When Fionna came to again, she was face to face with something out of a nightmare.

There was a young man standing before her, smiling deviously with a full mouth of teeth sharpened to a fine point at the canines. He flicked his tongue over them slowly, like he was imagining how great she would taste as a meal. Fionna's eyes went wide as she stared. He had a grey complexion, and hair the color of ravens, but the most off putting thing about him were his eyes. They were _red-red-red-red_ \- the color of rubies - and seemed to glow brightly in the room's dim lighting: demon eyes. Fionna gulped at this realization, but refused to let herself be afraid. He was nothing compared to the horrors she'd faced before. She let her eyes trail up to his head where a crown of plain gold sat crookedly atop his black tresses.

He was a King.

She'd heard stories before, about someone like him. They say he ruled over a kingdom lost on the map, where demonic creatures spent their days laughing at the expense of others, and feeding off their souls. As for the demon in front of her, well, he fed off something else entirely: blood.

Without thinking, Fionna let a word escape through her lips, " _Vampire_."

 _Oh_ , how the wretch smiled. "How lovely of you to point out. I'm flattered you recognized my kind," he spoke, grinning. He floated lazily towards her form, and under a different circumstance Fionna would have thought that was completely _epic_ , but he was an enemy, and certainly not someone to think highly of (even if the ability to float was super awesome).

Fionna wanted to speak more, but ended up coughing instead. "Don't strain yourself, kid," admonished the vampire. "Relax, we've only just met, and I would hate to have you pass out before we could converse more."

Swallowing, Fionna readied herself to speak, narrowing her eyes as she did so. "What do you want from me?" She made sure to spit out the words at his feet (or the space of air under them).

"What do I _want?_ Well, it should be pretty obvious, but perhaps I'll let you think about it. For now, I think some introductions are in order." He smiled again, or rather smirked, which Fionna couldn't help but scowl at. It was like he was mocking her.

"No thanks, I don't really care about learning the names of Turbo-Nerds like you."

The vampire narrowed his eyes. "Fine, we'll ignore the introductions. They don't matter, because I already know who you are, Fionna." Fionna's eyes widened, which only made him smirk more. "What? Don't look so surprised-" he laughed, "-you're well known throughout Aaa. Prince Pinky's favorite knight in shining armor, or apparently shining dresses. Not sure how you managed to fight me off for as long as you did wearing that."

"Fight you? I've never seen you!"

"You don't remember?" He pointed to her chest. "Take a look at that nasty gash you have. You think that just magically appeared?"

Fionna glared. The slash looked awful, the spray of congealed blood splattered across her chest, and sticking to the fabric of her dress. She had no idea how she got the wound, but hearing him say that he was the one who gave it to her made her all kinds of angry. How could she have been bested by _him_? "I'm tired of this," she stated. Fionna attempted to move, but when she stood up, another wave of vertigo crashed through her again. She balanced herself against the wall of the room, which was cold and hard - dungeon walls. Fionna tried not to throw up.

"I wouldn't recommend moving." He sighed. "Look, let me dumb it down for you. I gave you that cut with my axe base - yes it's exactly as it sounds - and because of that you aren't going to be able to move for awhile. I suggest you save your energy. Besides, I'm not here to hurt you anymore, what I want is something else entirely."

"Oh yeah?" Fionna spat, regaining her balance. "And what is that?"

The vampire floated across the room to where she stood, hovering in the air above her. He twirled around until his face was upside down - until his red eyes were level with her own. Looking at his face, she became aware that he wasn't as old as she originally thought. How can a King be so...childish? Granted, he was clearly older than her, but still. With the mischievous look in his eye, that replaced the previous one of horror, he looked almost friendly, like it was all some kind of prank.

That was until he spoke.

"What I want, my dear Fionna, is your allegiance."

Fionna could only stare. The vampire seemed delighted at her silence, as if he was relishing in the shocked look upon her face. He gave out a bark of a laugh, before floating away from her, and humming a little tune. "You know," he commented, "I expected more of a reaction than that. You could have at least gasped or something."

Fionna was still surprised. "You want my allegiance? What do you mean?"

"Ahh-" he nodded his head in understanding, "-you're confused." The King lowered himself to the ground, and calmly walked towards her again. Fionna didn't like the way he was always moving; it made her on edge. She wished she had her sword with her, and she guessed he must have taken it from her after their so called fight. Fionna's hands twitched at her sides, and the air beneath her fingers felt foreign without her weapon. His voice cut her out of her thoughts. "I want you to work for me, Fionna, as my loyal knight."

Fionna bristled. "How dare you even-"

"Even what?" he cut her off. "It's not really such an obscure request, is it? You act like I've said something offensive."

"That's because you have, you Dingus!"

He almost looked hurt. As if to exemplify this point, he clutched his heart. "Is that anyway to talk to a _king?_ "

"You are _not_ my king!" she snapped. Fionna tore her eyes away from his gaze. She needed to escape. However, upon inspection she found that there were walls in every direction - not even a door was in sight.

When she looked back at him, his eyes were glowing again. A frown replaced his previous smirk. "I would advise you not to be so tactless, especially in the presence of someone as powerful as I. If you were anyone else, you'd be killed right where you're standing."

Fionna tilted her chin up defiantly. "If I were anyone else, huh? Why do you want my loyalty anyways?"

He shook his head to get rid of the fringe in his face. "It's simple really: you're Prince Gumball's most prized knight. I would have brought your partner Cake here as well, but only one of you was needed. I need an army, you see, and only the best of the best will do."

"Well I'm afraid that's impossible."

"Oh? And why is that?" His look of anger dissolved into amusement again. She hated how quick he could change his emotions around. Fire burned in the pit of her stomach.

She made her voice as strong as possible. "I serve under Prince Gumball and him alone! As head knight of the Righteous Order, I have sworn my life to him!"

The vampire smiled. "I'm sure you have, and I'm sure a lot more too." He waggled his eyebrows at her, and fitted a smirk across his features. The suggestive tone of his voice was disarming.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked hotly, cursing as she felt heat rise to her cheeks.

"I think you know exactly what I mean." His voice was incredibly low, and the mischievous look in his eyes caused the red in them to blaze brightly. Clearly he was enjoying himself.

"No I d-"

"Do you love him?" The vampire couldn't help but laugh.

"Love!? _What the_ \- no! I don't...love him...he's my king! I respect him is all!"

"Would you ever love me like you love him?" He flipped his hair, and smiled seductively at her.

That's when she ran to punch him.

All of the pent up anger and embarrassment fueled her. How dare he make her look like such a fool! How dare he mock her King! She ran full force, but before she could do anything, her body had other plans. The vampire wasn't lying when told her she shouldn't move or strain herself. He must have spiked his axe with something, because all of a sudden her legs gave out beneath her, and she threw up whatever food she had eaten before. Glob must be mocking her, because it was spaghetti.

"I told you," the Vampire King said, "don't strain yourself." He sighed. "No one ever listens to me."

Fionna retched.

"Kid, I have no idea how you managed to be a knight, but I fought you - so I _know_ you're good. My offer is still on the table, but I'm afraid you won't have much of a choice. I am asking you kindly now, pledge your allegiance to me, or face the consequences later."

Fionna coughed, before choking out, "Who are you?"

He smirked again. "I'm Marshall Lee, the Vampire King."

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 **Reviews are very much appreciated!**


	2. Memories

So you're back, huh? Couldn't resist another installment of my tale? It makes me so happy to know that these old stories haven't been completely forgotten, or lost to the many new-fangled gadgets roaming around Aaa. Seriously, the art of storytelling has changed drastically! You wouldn't believe the ways in which holograms have been used...er, right...perhaps we should move on? Don't want to get too sidetracked, especially when you've waited so patiently. So please, sit back and relax, for here is part two:

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Fionna woke up in the same room feeling insanely groggy. Blinking wearily through her tired eyes, she found a blanket and pillow laid out before her, and a jar of some odd looking green goop. Attached to the lid was a message reading: FOR YOUR WOUND. She sighed. It looked like she was going to be stuck there for quite some time. The human girl forced her muscles to move, and lifted herself to her feet. She performed a few stretches (which cracked a fair amount of her bones in a pop-pop-popping sound) before reaching down for the jar.

"Not sure if I should trust this gunk…" she muttered to herself skeptically. Now Fionna wasn't the most patient person, mind you, so after some careful reasoning (after her curiosity wore thin) she carefully (forcefully) took the lid off. As she did a waft of some foul smelling air drifted into the rooms expanse, and Fionna had to reel her face away wicked fast. She was afraid her skin might have vaporized off. "Yuck!" Her eyes were beginning to water. Swallowing hard, Fionna braved herself for what she was about to do. Her hand immersed itself into the goop, and to her disgust it was not only cold, but moist too. It seemed to suck her hand in, and Fionna shivered at the sensation. The only appealing thing about it was the green sparkly color, and even that was too weird to trust. Whatever she was given, it clearly wasn't prescribed by any real doctor.

After getting over the initial shock of it all, Fionna went to work. She began to peel back the fabric of her dress with her free hand, cringing as she ripped off a large scab with it. Blood started to resurface, but Fionna worked diligently and quickly, not even flinching at the pain (she had been through far worse before; this was nothing). Fionna gathered the torso piece into a large ruffle at her navel, giving her clear vision of the gash. It would scar for sure, adding to the array of constellations already scattered over her body, but she was used to that. So, when everything was set, she spread the goop. Now, if she thought the smell was bad before, it was nothing compared to the intrusive stench invading her nostrils at that moment. Fionna didn't know what was worse, _that_ , or the fact that the longer it stayed glued to her wound the more it began to sting, and sting, until _holy-cow-over-a-moon IT FEELS LIKE I'M ON FIRE!_ The adventuress hissed in pain, and tried her best to scrape off as much goop as she could before it burned her skin off. Its color was now an odd slurry of red and green that looked more gray than anything else, and to Fionna's disappointment, the sparkles that once placated its intimidation were gone. How lovely.

Her day was in no way getting any better, and she wanted nothing more than to be safe in the confines of her old tree-fort, curled up into a ball will Cake. But sadly, that couldn't be farther from the reality.

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 _The cavern bustled with restless energy, low voices slurred in silly songs with the taste of TreeTrunk's famous Apple Cider still fresh on their tongues. Some of the lyrics were vulgar enough to make a sailor blush, but Cake had covered Fionna's ears with her paws so she wouldn't hear. There was a yellow glow burning hazily around the room, and it made Fionna sleepy; it reminded her of the candles her mother used to place beside their bedside at night, to ward of monsters._

" _Cake," the human girl spoke, her blue eyes blinking slowly (it was becoming quite the chore to keep them open). The two of them sat drinking at a bar, using old tree stumps for stools._

" _What's up girly?" Cake replied, taking a swig of her drink: a bowl of warm milk. "Did you want another root beer?"_

" _I'm tired."_

 _Cake almost fell out of her chair. "You can't be tired yet! The night's still young, Fi." She stretched her paws around wildly. "You haven't even seen the main event yet!"_

" _Main event?" Fionna's eyes grew wide, and Cake had to hold her paw over her mouth to keep from giggling. Fionna sure was a gullible child. "Yeah, uh, it's you know, top secret! But when the clock hits midnight, this place will go up in flames! It gets crazy up in here!"_

 _Fionna tightened the belt at her waist. "Well then I'm ready for whatever this place throws at me! I'm feeling totally righteous!" Cake smiled at her sister. She was a pudgy little thing, with round cheeks and big ol' blue eyes, clearly not fit for the slums they were hanging around. Her clothes were rags, and there was dirt plastered all over her knees and arms. Cake knew she was in need of a bath (apparently the kid couldn't just lick herself clean like cats could) but they didn't have money for soap or other luxuries like that, as much as Cake would have liked. The cat frowned. Fionna deserved better than the life they were living; they both did. At least, that's what their mom and dad always told them. Until they got a hold of the money though, they would have to stick to living in that dingy old hole carved into a tree, feeding off whatever they could scrounge for in the streets, and doing odd jobs like shining people's shoes for pocket change. The slums were dirty places to live, and luckily they were located on the outside of town, where nothing bad happened. But sometimes when they'd go to have a drink, they'd run into trouble. It wasn't too bad, Cake could fight after all, and she taught Fionna how to use a dagger, but she was still the older sister and she worried. If Fionna were to get hurt, Cake wouldn't know what she would do._

 _All of a sudden there was a loud squealing of wheels that cut through the atmosphere, followed by a loud neighing sound. "What was that?" Fionna yelled out, her head whipping in the sound's direction. Before Cake could protest, Fionna jumped out of her seat and raced to the exit, running as fast as her stubby legs would carry her._

" _Here we go again," muttered Cake as she ran off after her sister. It looked like her milk was going to get cold._

 _When the two of them ran outside they found an extravagant white carriage lined with icing and sprinkles splayed out before them. The vehicle had tipped over, and in front of it, attached to the reins, was a hurt animal-cracker horse, neighing pitifully. That wasn't the worst thing, however. Instead it was the terrifying glint of silver that caught in the overhead moon's glow - the glint of a dagger. The only thing that raced through both Fionna and Cake's minds was that there was danger, and more importantly, someone needed their help. As quick as lightning Fionna charged at the dagger's owner, pulling out her own weapon in the process. She managed to slice at the unsuspecting bandit's arm, which in turn caused him to howl in pain, dropping his weapon as he did so. Before he could retaliate, Cake had wrapped her body around him like a makeshift rope._

 _He had been caught._

 _Fionna dusted off her hands, and gave out an exuberant cheer, "Ha! Take that ya filthy bandit!"_

" _Yeah," agreed Cake, "you better take a good long look at our faces, for let it be known that the mighty Fionna and Cake took you down!" The feline tightened her grip on his body to emphasize her point, letting out a triumphant laugh for good measure. The bandit groaned._

 _Fionna sheathed her weapon before taking time to wipe the sweat from her brow - another victory._

 _She didn't know when it had started, but somewhere along the lines, Fionna and Cake had begun the process of taking down any baddies that crossed their paths. Say some loonie was trying to steal a loaf of bread from a hard working baker: it would be Fionna and Cake time! Or if there was a good-ol' alleyway brawl gone south, Fionna and Cake would be there in seconds. In any situation that involved the right hand of Justice, the two wouldn't hesitate to serve it on a golden platter, no matter what the cost, because alongside scrounging for loose change and the odd-ball jobs here and there, being heroines was a 24-hour-seven-days-a-week profession. And the two of them took great pride in the work._

 _Suddenly, there was a timid squeaking sound in the direction of the carriage as the small door opened up. Fionna whipped her head in its direction, only to find the sight of a tall pink male exiting the vehicle. She tilted her head to the side. The man looked nervous, and kept wringing his hands together in front of his chest - the one covered in the fanciest looking attire she had ever seen. Fionna's eyes trailed up to his face (his very noble-like face) before they came to rest at the top of his head where, sat dauntingly, lied a crown of glistening gold. She gulped; he was royalty._

" _Glob! Are you alright?" he asked her, his eyes going wide, and his tall legs darting to her side, easing himself into the space next to her in such an effortless manner. "I'm so very sorry you had to get involved in that, but may I say that you were amazing?" Fionna felt her face grow warm at the compliment. This man was so unusual. He had the oddest looking hair curled up in a bubblegum swirl at the top of his head, and oh-glob-he-smells-like-it-too! The man took her hands gingerly into his own, and stared deeply into her eyes. "I am so very grateful, Miss...erm." He gave her an apologetic smile, upset that he had yet the knowledge of her name._

" _F-Fionna," the adventuress stuttered, shocked at his gentleness. She had never met someone who treated her like she were something fragile and lady like. "And over there is my sister, Cake."_

" _A pleasure to meet you," he spoke charmingly, adding an almost disarming smile to his statue. He then proceeded to plant a soft kiss of gratitude against her hand. "And you as well, Miss. Cake!" He smiled. "Would the two of you like to accompany me back to my castle?"_

 _._

 _._

 _._

Fionna forced the memory out of her mind.

She didn't know where it had sprung up; maybe her feeling of homesickness was growing stronger, gnawing on her insides in great bursts of pangs like daggers to her sides, forcing her mind to conjure of false realities of hope and happiness, just to fill the void that had crawled its way into her stomach. She wanted to immerse herself in her memories, because it was far better than opening her eyes to the blank dungeonesque walls, and letting the reality of the situation hang over her head. She didn't want to admit the fact that she had been caught. Besides, at least when she closed her eyes and thought of the past, Cake was there.

She was forced out of her thoughts when a low rumbling sound emitted from one of the walls. To Fionna's surprise a panel had suddenly appeared, and a tall guard dressed from head to foot in daunting black armor stepped through. He spoke without looking at her, his voice low and booming, "Fionna the human, please follow me. The King wishes to speak to you."

"Why doesn't he just come in here?" she spat. "He did it once before, didn't he? If he wishes to flaunt his throne or something, he can save the Kingly act, I don't give a sugar drop."

"These are my orders. You can either rot in here for another five days without the luxury of food and water, or follow me. It's your choice."

Fionna mulled over her options. The last thing she wanted to do was see _him_ again, but at the same time, it might give her an opportunity to escape. The latter option far outweighed the former. "Alright," she nodded, "lead the way."

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The Demon Realm felt like Hell.

Maybe it was the fire: the plumes of bright yellow-red flames bursting before her eyes in deep cavernous pits, up above her head in the blood-red sky where black birds circled around, and even popping up randomly behind her in gusts of wind (or in this case flamethrowers). They were like deep seas of glowing heat, lapping at the ground in a crazed hunger trying to devour anything in their sight, leaving singe marks against the dark brown dirt surface, and drifting smoke up into the heavens. And if it wasn't the fire, it was the creatures. Fionna had never seen anything like it. Sure, in the Candy Kingdom there were a few odd looking candy citizens, the ones who had mutated a bit when they were born, maybe morphed together with one more gumdrop then was normal, but that was common, _it happened_. Here, however, was something out of a nightmare. Fanged creatures with bloodshot eyes swept the grounds in stampedes, their cries of terror cutting through Fionna's ears like a slash of a sword. Floating things with matted wings took flight up in the sky, only to swoop down in mere seconds when their multiple eyes spotted their prey (Fionna hoped to Grob she wouldn't be next). Through the barren wasteland that the demon realm contained, things crawled, hid, fought, screamed, and cried out for something to give them meaning to their otherwise pitiful life. How long had these things (these monsters with seven stomachs, poisonous spikes, glowing entrails…) been down here? Since the dawn of time? When primordial plants and animals roamed the newly formed molten rock, and there was never such a thing as The Mushroom War, or atomic explosions?

Who knew? Fionna didn't, but what she did understand was that this kingdom in all of its terror was still a kingdom, these creatures were still citizens, and there was only one man to rule it all: Marshall Lee.

But you should all understand, appearances can be deceitful. Sometimes there's someone behind the curtain, controlling everything. Sometimes the Kings not a king at all…

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"Bring her in," Marshall ordered from atop his throne. The king was splayed out with his feet propped up against one arm rest, and his head against the other. He was bored, incredibly so. Waiting around for his latest catch to heal was tedious, and while it may have given her time to contemplate his offer, it meant he would have to find something else to occupy his time - and that (here's the rub) was impossible. After all, his Kingdom may have been vast, but it was empty. There was only a paucity of his own kind there (many vampires had either been wiped out, MIA, or roaming around the land of Aaa somewhere). Plus the ones that did make their homes throughout the kingdom weren't very interesting. As for the other creatures, well, they weren't in his realm by choice.

The vampire stretched. The crown on his head was heavy, bearing the weight of what it meant to be royal, but Marshall preferred the feeling of it off. There wasn't anything quite like the feeling of being free; not chained to the expectations put forth by others, or by the duties and responsibilities expected of him - of a King. Marshall Lee sighed. He contemplated removing the cursed thing, but before he could reach up for the golden object, the large double doors that marked the entrance into his domain were opened. He craned his neck to see his visitors, smirking as his red eyes landed on Fionna - _perfect_. She was still wearing her soiled dress (he had yet to provide her with a proper change of clothes) and had a glare that would send any normal person running - but he wasn't normal, he was a vampire.

A vampire who was hungry for entertainment.

He let his tongue flick across his fangs, widening his smile so that she might catch a peek of the sharpened canines. "Ah," he breathed, "welcome Fionna the human." She squinted at him suspiciously, but otherwise said nothing, choosing instead to admire her surroundings. She was a curious child, that was for sure. It looked like he would have to press further. "I hope you received my gift."

"Gift?" Her eyes flashed down towards her wound. "Oh... _that_."

His eyes glinted. "The gel is infused with a magic potion that's supposed to speed up the healing process."

"Are you sure it wasn't infused with a stink bomb? Because Grob, that stuff was nasty!" The human girl looked like she was about to go into a detailed description of her experience - her eyes widened, a smile tugging onto her features - but then, as if realizing he was not someone worth speaking to, dropped it. "I mean, what do you want? Did you call me here to insult me? To rub it in my face that you captured me? Or maybe you want to fight?" The adventuress moved into a war-like stance, only to be cut off by her escort's weapon. He had placed the sharpened end far too close to her neck, and luckily for her, Fionna was smart enough to back off. The guard retreated.

"Fionna Fionna Fionna, when will you learn? I'm only trying to be amiable with you, please, lighten up!"

"If hiding behind a guard is as friendly as you say it is, then-"

"Enough," he ordered, sterner than he had anticipated. His words echoed throughout the almost empty room, and he cursed. "I'm sorry, I don't wish to fight you, human. After all, you and I both know what I have in store for you. If anything, this meaning is purely for the sake of diplomacy."

"So?"

"So let's talk."

* * *

 **Hello! I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, favored, or followed this story! It means a lot! I hope all of you are enjoying it so far!**

 **Shout out to the reviewers:** **The Mulberry, GeekyAnimeGirl, NamineNasha, Sterlingstarz, and the two guests!**

 **Replies to guests:**

 **(GeekyAnimeGirl) Thanks! :D**

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 **Have a wonderful day!**


	3. Intentions

Aah is a terribly large place once you get to know it, and I've traveled along its earth enough times to have it engraved in the back of my hand, my mind - anywhere you can think. Memories resurface intermittently for me. Sometimes, when I close my eyes, reels of film will play themselves, retelling tales of my adventures and the people I've met.

Which reminds me...I once met a woman on one of my many travels. She was wary looking, with tired, heavy lidded eyes, and rags for clothing that hid her wiry frame and the bones that jutted out beneath it. The woman was old and tired like she had been through a million years of war. Despite this, she had an air of intelligence around her that was impossible to ignore. I felt her knowledge like Death's cold hand against my shoulder, and the power of it caused me to stop dead in my tracks. There was no denying her pull; I just had to embrace it. If I've learned anything on my travels it's that when you feel a tug in your gut or soul, it's best not to ignore it.

"Do you know what makes a hero?" she asked me, randomly and spontaneously, jabbing a crooked finger at my chest.

I mulled over my response; It would have been terribly rude not to humor her. "I suppose it's the fact that they fight for the greater good," I replied. "And that they do it out of the goodness of their hearts." I was quite pleased with my answer, but the woman had shook her head in disagreement, tutting like a mother hen.

"No, what makes a hero is a villain."

"How do you suppose?" I asked, and she replied, "Because, just like in order to describe light you need darkness, in order to describe a hero you need a villain."

She took a breath then, a tired one at that, "A hero is nothing without evil."

.

.

.

Marshall had apparently gone all out with his 'diplomatic' talk, choosing to treat his capture to a fine dinner. He and Fionna sat across from each other, and it could have been seen as an intimate position if it weren't for the space between them: stretched on for miles in the form of a long wooden table. The table itself was skillfully crafted, Fionna could tell that much, and had a lovely dark color to it. The cloth spread about its length was a deep red, and she just knew that the vampire had purposely made it so, just to match the blood she was sure he drank. The sicko. Speaking of the devil, he was watching her carefully, a smirk digging into his features and his eyes dancing with mirth. Even though she couldn't quite see him with all of the extravagant meals scattered around the table, she could feel him, like some kind of malignant disease.

From under the table, she bent her spoon back.

"Fionna, I'm so happy you decided to take me up on my dinner offer," he drawled, sending her a wolfish grin. Fionna glared. That wasn't exactly how she would have put it. After all, she was practically forced to attend: bound to her ankle was a chain, and if she tried moving, well, things became quite painful.

It took all of the self-restraint she had not to sock him in the nose. "I'm here for the food," she replied coldly, "not you."

"Fair enough." The vampire swirled a glass of red wine in his hand, a luxury many people in her kingdom could only dream about - and he had it by the barrel full. How could this barren kingdom afford something so expensive? "You look lovely, by the way," he spoke again.

Indeed she did. The adventuress was decked out in a flowy white dress, the collar of it rimmed with gold, and a gossamer sash around her middle the color of pink roses. It had been somewhat of a gift by Marshall Lee, but Fionna had stubbornly refused to call it anything of the sort. She would never willingly accept anything he had to offer. If anything, the dress was for his sake (her other one was unsightly from all of the blood). Luckily for him her wound was beginning to seal, thanks to the magic-like goop he had given her beforehand. Otherwise, she supposed, the white dress wouldn't stay white for long.

"My appearance is none of your concern," Fionna snapped, embarrassed. To her chagrin she felt her cheeks warm up. It wasn't her fault though! She wasn't used to compliments, especially when they were said with such sincerity, and - dare she say it - huskiness. Looking up she was met with a glow in Marshall Lee's eyes that was the embodiment of amusement - _he was toying with her!_ Angrily, Fionna stabbed a piece of what she hoped was steak with her fork, and popped it into her mouth. She chewed with a scowl on her face. Across from her, Marshall watched her tentatively, not even breaking his gaze to look down at his own plate. For some odd reason the vampire had piled only red colored food on top its surface, and Fionna became curious as to why. She hated herself for being so enthralled by his behavior, but she couldn't help it - he was some sort of enigma. Fionna 's nature called for her to explore the unknown, and Marshall was just that.

His next actions caused her to almost drop her fork. He had speared something off of his plate, a tomato or something or other (it didn't matter what), but instead of placing it in his mouth like she expected him to do, he stuck it against his pointed tooth and, he began to suck! The color drained out of the food, and after releasing it with a satisfying sigh, Marshall tossed the deflated grey matter behind his back.

Fionna stared aghast, equal parts amazed and astonished. "How did you…" she trailed off, still a little bit shocked. Her heart thumped widely in her chest, excitement bubbling through her. He smirked, and languidly reached his fork out for another piece.

"Do what?" he inquired teasingly. Winking at her, he took another bite of the food, and in seconds, the bright color vanished. Something surged through Fionna in that moment, a childish kind of wonder. It was like she was transported back to when she first stepped foot in Prince Gumball's castle, the sugary atmosphere something enthralling and delicious; everything seemed so unreal, so beautiful. She wanted to devour it all with her eyes, to seep everything into her being like a sponge, to capture it. Sitting there, across from Marshall, those emotions resurfaced. Fionna wanted nothing more than to solve the enigma that was Marshall Lee. What an adventure it would be!

The young adventuress leaned forward, eyes dancing with excitement. "That!"

Marshall decided to humor her. He raised himself up out of his seat, until he hovered above the red-clothed table, the incandescent candles casting his shadow across the walls like some wonderfully whimsical puppet show. His body floated leisurely towards her own, and he planted himself in the air above her. In his hand he bore a juicy strawberry. "Fionna," he spoke in a low voice, "I'm not what you call a normal vampire." Then, as if to prove his point, he fitted his fang against the ripe fruit, close enough to her that she could bite the berry as well; close enough to see every speck against Marshall's skin, and every hair atop his head. The color was sucked out in mere seconds, but Fionna didn't watch it this time. Instead, she gazed at Marshall: the soft strands of his raven hair were long enough to kiss the tips of his eyelashes, and they were darker compared to the blushing light his eyes seemed to emit as he stared back at her own. It was hypnotizing. Fionna's stomach started doing weird flopping things, and her insides began to feel warm. The new sensation was foreign and weird, but strangely addictive. She wanted to feel it more. But the spell was soon broken when he finished his meal, popping the grey remain into her mouth as he did so. His voice was soft. "I don't need blood to sustain me."

Underneath his words, she felt that it wasn't just the color red he needed.

.

.

.

Fionna spent that night in her cell feeling aggravated, and it wasn't just because of her wound. Chiefly, it was because of the dinner. How could she have been so easily swayed by his charms!? The fascination she had felt towards him quickly wore off after the berry incident, and after realizing just what was going on, she broke herself out of her cursed trance. Marshall shouldn't have gotten so close to her, because she promptly stabbed him in the eye with her fork.

Maybe that's why their dinner ended so quickly.

It looked like they had skipped out on the diplomatic talk for the time being. Still, Fionna knew that the respite wouldn't last long. The vampire had plans for her, it seemed, and she shuddered to think what those plans might entail. Her heart ached for her rightful kingdom, the home of her sister, and her own king; for the familiar. But she was stuck in some dingy cell, waiting for a demon to request her aid, and most of all a promise to fight for him and him alone. As a knight, that was treason beyond any offense, and frankly, Fionna would rather die than ever admit her allegiance to another. That's what she told herself, anyway. But damn it all, Fionna was curious! Curious to find out what exactly Marshall Lee wanted, of what those demon eyes sought out in her. Why her of all people? He said he wanted an army, but to fight who? She wanted answers. The next time he came to her, Fionna decided she would hear him out.

Cake always told her that curiosity was a dangerous thing (and not just because it killed the cat). However, Fionna didn't think of that as she slowly undid the top of her dress, and plugged her nose as she added another dose of the green sparkly goop.

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.

Marshall Lee hummed a tune under his breath has he traversed down the narrow corridor leading to his room. The vampire was exhausted, and not because he had used most of his energy restraining the urge to strangle Fionna after she stabbed his eye (he may have been immortal, but that hurt damn it!). Still, he should have saw it coming. It seemed Fionna was still putting her guard up. Marshall sighed. That wasn't good. He _needed_ her: alive and well, and _willing_. Otherwise his plans would fail terribly.

Against his leg, Marshall began to tap a beat. As soon as he entered his room he was going to take out all of his pent up frustrations on his base. Shredding would definitely relieve some stress. He was thinking about this, and also about how maybe Fionna would enjoy listening to him play, when he entered his room - only to find his mother there, sitting on top of his bed, waiting.

Marshall yelped.

"Oh hush," his mother reprimanded, shaking her head at his outburst, "I'm not that scary."

Marshall could barely speak as he tried to calm down his beating heart. He was pretty sure he just had a mini-heart attack. "M-mom, what are you doing here?" he managed to squeak out.

"I live here, don't I?"

 _I meant in my room,_ Marshall thought sassily. He would never say that aloud, his mother would kill him. "Yeah but...well I thought you were still away on work."

"Plans changed, dear." The demon lady moved over and patted the space next to her. Marshall Lee, still exasperated, took a seat. "We need that army, and we need it as soon as possible. I don't need to tell you how crucial this is. Now, have you chosen your general?"

"Of course." Marshall leaned back. He wasn't surprised his mother didn't trust him. Honestly, he wasn't inept, he knew how to handle himself.

"Show him to me." Marshall rubbed the back of his neck nervously. His mother narrowed her eyes. "Marshall Lee," she held out the vowels, her voice taking on a dangerous tone, "what's the problem?"

"There's not a problem! It's just, she's not a dude, and more importantly she isn't...um...well she isn't exactly my general yet."

Her eyes turned to daggers. "What?"

"Well it's just that she hasn't exactly pledged her allegiance yet."

"And why, may I ask, is that?" His mother raked her hand down the side of her face in frustration. "You know that we don't have time to waste on this!"

"I get that, but-"

"But what?" she spat, her eyes growing red. "Did you use violence? You know, force her? Did you scare her into doing your bidding? Honestly, how hard can it be to get some _girl_ to listen to you? You're a handsome boy!" It seemed her mother mode activated. Marshall inwardly groaned.

"Mom, it takes more than that to...there's a certain," this time, he groaned out loud, "look, I have it all under control. She will open up to me sooner than you think."

Marshall couldn't help being weak around his mother. His childhood had always been a sore topic for him, and she wasn't exactly there to help him through it either (he couldn't recall many times when she was there at all). But part of him, despite the lack of care and stealing of fries that went down, couldn't help but want her love. Even then, a thousand-some years into his lifetime, he wanted her approval. Maybe one day she would...she would - tell him she was proud of him - or...or _something._ Anything. Because for all Marshall Lee's cold heart entailed, it had never been quite so dark and menacing to reject the idea of someone accepting him for the way he was (for someone loving him, the way he imagined his mother loved his father, or at least the way his father loved his mother). He hated to admit it, but Marshall Lee was too quick to love, and his emotions often got the better of him, because he didn't lock up his heart the way others did when they were scared.

Marshall Lee was different.

So he gave into his mother's requests. He, like a good son was supposed to do, listened to her. If she said jump, he would have to say 'how high' and then match his mother's expectations, or in some cases _succeed_ them. It was painful, at times, and other times he would give up completely, choosing to spit obscenities at her demonic features, and curse her very existence. But at the end of the day he would _always_ come back to her: again and again and again. It's an awfully sick cycle.

"She better," his mother spoke, this time with more venom. "After all, you may be a King, Marshall, but in no way does your rule belong here. Not in my kingdom. As long as you are under my roof, in _my_ domain, you shall obey me. And for now, you will act accordingly, exactly as I say." His mother rose up from her seat. The black pantsuit she wore emphasized her authority, and Marshall felt his whole body deflate. Any sense of power he had faded. " _Or else_ ," she added.

Marshall nodded mutely.

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A loud rumble sounded as the passage between Fionna's cell and the 'outside world' was opened. Fionna only called it that, because anything was closer to what is considered 'outside' when you are trapped, and forced to stare at a blank dungeonesque wall for what seems like a millennium. For human girls such as herself, waiting can feel like a lifetime, and Fionna would have given _anything_ for a chance to breathe in some fresh air as opposed to the musty moth-ball scent that seemed to permeate throughout her living space. (There wasn't any ventilation in her cell, that was for sure).

The human girl whipped her head in the direction of the passage. It was opening quickly, and she could already make out the black silhouette standing in its path. She sprang to her feet in hopes that she could perhaps have the upper hand of surprise at her disposal, to duke out whatever guard was waiting for her. Only, mid-run she became aware that who she was staring at was in no way a guard, and more importantly that it was the King himself.

(She tried to avoid the collision, she really did).

Her body slammed against his, her nose smashing itself against his lanky frame. His body was cold, and it was yet another reminder of the fact that he was no mere mortal; he was a vampire. She knew she shouldn't have forgotten that, but during the times when she looked at his face (saw raw emotion hidden beneath those demon eyes, that flicker of flame) she couldn't help but associate him as someone like her. He wasn't heartless, she could tell that much. She had met evil people before, and he...he wasn't like them. She could feel it, right in the pit of her gut.

It was something she couldn't ignore.

"Wow," Marshall sang, "already running into my arms? I suppose that means you're ready to take up my offer?" He laughed at the expression on her face.

"No way! I wasn't doing that on purpose," she protested. The adventuress pushed herself off of him, letting out a growl under her breath. He may not have been evil, but he sure was annoying.

Marshall Lee had the gall to chuckle. That ever present smirk was still engraved onto his features, and Fionna fixated her glare on it as he floated a safe distance away from her. The vampire winked. "I came here to discuss my offer, and believe me, I don't want to have to keep doing this." His float took a different turn then, as he gracefully bent his body towards her own. His voice was soft, and the low rumble of sound sent chills through her body. "I think both of us are getting a little tired of this game." Cautiously, he made his way over to her, reaching his hand out towards her own. Fionna backed up a little, involuntary nervousness creeping up on her.

Now it was true that she wanted to see what his plans were, to understand what he needed from her, _to stomp out the intrigue and curiosity he brought forth,_ but at the same time he kidnapped her! He took her away from her home - from Cake! From the things she held dear. These thoughts attacked her in a way they really hadn't before, not during the dinner, and not those few hours before when she was considering hearing him out. A new question came into mind: could she really forgive him so easily?

Her legs, without her consent stepped further away from him, until her back rested against the cool dungeon wall. "I-" she spluttered, not sure how to voice her thoughts.

His voice softened. "I'm not going to hurt you." But what if he did? What if this was all a lie? Her brain was assaulted with these muddled thoughts. A wave of uncertainty crashed over her body, and she began to feel seasick by it.

"Stop! Step away from me! You're just going to-" she was cut off as his hand clenched around her own. It was a gentle touch: the kind that made your heart stop and restart ten times faster. He wasn't warm, but his hand was strangely comforting, and Fionna couldn't help but stare up at him, into the softened gaze he wore plastered over his face. He startled her with that gaze, for his eyes no longer held that vicious blood red she came to associate with him; they were a light rosy color that screamed 'trust me.'

And would she have?

Maybe, but she wouldn't know, because in the next few seconds her fingers had brushed against something on the wall, and her cell had opened.

She kicked Marshall Lee where it hurt, and booked it.

* * *

 **(A/N):Thank you everyone for sticking with this story, even though it's been a long update. Sorry about that! I think that it is safe to say that updates are going to be a little random. This year has been very stressful for me, and I hope you can understand.**

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 **(iamthewalrus) First of all, love the name. Thank you for your words, it means a lot! I'm happy you've enjoyed the descriptions, and my portrayal of the characters. I do try hard to make them true to how they are represented in the show. Or at least how I perceive them, heh heh. Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

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	4. Origins

Do you remember what I told you all, about this story being about the royals?

I know that royal politics aren't the most invigorating thing, nor the most well understood, but bear in mind that this story takes place in the Land of Aaa, and as I have said before, the kingdoms thrive on their monarchies. Before you can even begin to comprehend the underlying schemes that our dear vampire has planned, or rather the ones his mother has conjured up, it is important to take you to the beginning.

Not THE beginning, mind you, but darn near close to it.

So take a seat, alright?

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 _The comet burned brightly in the overhead sky, incandescent beams of liquid fire seeping into the heavens. It's light practically burned the woman, and she hissed at its wrath, cursing the rock in an ancient dialect lost to the records. She turned away from it angrily. Trying to force the image out of her head, her gaze was directed towards a pink amulet encrusted into her wand. It was an old piece, quite like herself, passed on for generations to generations, family member after family member, until inexorably landing into her possession; she traced its history with her finger, jagged pieces jutting out, threatening to cut like daggers._

" _Are you ready?" boomed a deep raspy voice, and as the woman looked up she was met with the glowing eyes of Xavier, Master Wizard. Her wrinkled fingers hastily dropped from the wand, and instead began to claw at the matted blue fabric of her dress nervously._

 _No._

" _Yes," she wheezed. Her old throat cracked, most likely from years of spell casting, and the word lodged itself in the back of her throat. She swallowed hard. She wasn't ready, not in the slightest. However, it wasn't as if she had a choice. The woman reminded herself this._

 _The two of them huddled close to each other, standing in the middle of a burnt field. The fires had long died down, and now they stood in its remains, the charred grass drifting smoke into the air. When she breathed it in, the putrid stench invaded her nostrils, causing her to gag. Their land was acidic, barren, and toxic - the result of years of mistreatment._

 _But they were going to make it great again. Xavier promised her that._

 _The Master Wizard took her hand gingerly in his own. "The comet will land right where we are standing," he assured her. "We've calculated its impact for years now." She traced the hard lines of his face, his eyes drawn out, skin sagging, and the plaster of his crescent moon frown. She watched as his breath shuddered through him, little strands of his blonde beard moving with it. He was tired, she could tell; tired and losing hope fast. "We will only have so much time before that, to cast our spells."_

 _She closed her eyes, and listened to the comet's steady whir above. She could feel its heat, and the light it gave off growing brighter. Her wrinkled hand shakily lifted her wand. "I'm ready."_

" _The energy we capture can only go to one thing...you know that, right?"_

 _It will be years before the Great Mushroom War, years before the bomb hits, and years before life changes once again. They only have one shot to make those things happen. Not that they know, of course. All they know is life has a chance to rebuild itself again, and they will make that happen._

 _Her blue eyes stared into his black ones. "I understand." She breathed in deeply, letting her own breath shutter out of her. "Let's make this world great again."_

 _The comet hit with an explosion of light, and as soon as it came, it was expelled._

 _._

.

.

" _Mummy, I'm scared."_

 _The new world was different._

 _It started off great, with unclothed creatures who lived among those dressed in furs, with wide open spaces, and towering mountains, with rivers cutting through the land until spilling out into great miles of ocean. These creatures slowly began to think and maneuver, learned how to work the land, and survive. They built towns and civilizations, and these flourished, spread themselves out over countless miles. They created their own magic, and they called it science; they called themselves humans. Their world grew and thrived. But, they didn't keep it that way. The humans raged war, burnt land, and cut down trees to make bigger buildings of human-made materials, they made dark clouds of thick smoke that seeped into the atmosphere as black and toxic as ink. They hated out of fear. They killed out of fear. They hurt, because they were afraid - of what? Of life - their life._

 _There was death._

 _And in the present, Death was knocking._

" _Mummy, what's that sound?"_

 _This sound was different from the usual whirs of planes, jets, and aircrafts that circled the skies; it wasn't like the revved up engines of those green jeeps, dark red stars stamped proudly against the hoods. It was a whistling sound, one growing in volume._

" _Shh, stay calm."_

 _The mother held a shaking hand to her chest, and when she opened her fingers the bright pink shine of jewelry glittered back at her._

 _She placed the amulet deep inside her freezer, surrounded by cubes of ice. Then, she leaped towards her child, encircling her arms around them._

" _It will be okay."_

 _The bomb hit; the light was beautiful._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _There was a hole in the earth._

 _It was a gaping thing, impossible to miss, that some say gave the clearest view of the stars you would ever see. But more than that, it was a reminder of the terrible, awful, no good thing that happened to their earth._

 _And yet, no one was there to remember that fact._

 _Radiation led to life, which was ironic because it was the very thing that killed off the billions of people inhabited on that glorified rock, but it happened and it was true. Creatures were stitched together, infused with the land, their bones mended and skin resewn, pieced bit by bit through toxic waste that altered the structure of their dna. Most of them were mutants. Others took on the form of lava creatures, their hearts made from molten rock. Some were made out of snow and ice. There were grass creatures and shadow people and water mages and clay monsters, skeleton bodies and tree kids, and individuals infused to battered old rags that somehow survived the flames. Life was thriving, even if it were in an odd round about way._

This, as I'm sure you all have guessed, was what became known as the Land of Aaa.

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _Bubba B. Gumball was running. It had been a while since he stretched out his legs, felt the raw feeling of his throat burning from excessive breath of air, his lungs and heart on fire. He forgot how alive he felt, with the wind running through his pink hair, cool against his skin._

 _Then, he thought, afterwards he was really going to need a cup of tea._

 _His kingdom has just began, and he was exhausted from the amount of work he had done to make it possible (after all, he built the place and his citizens from scratch) but it was far from over. As a prince, there were too many duties that needed to be tended to, and so little time in the day to make them happen. This of course led to many sleepless nights, and days when he'd be stumbling on the line between sleep and awake, buzzed on caffeine that rattled between the spaces in his bones. It wasn't the most presentable look for someone royal, he supposed, but looking his best could wait until he was able to cut the red ribbon to his kingdom on opening day. He hoped it would be soon._

 _The mechanical gemstone navigator tied around his neck let out a beeping sound, and Gumball brought his run to a halt._

" _Looks like I'm here," he breathed. Gumball put away his gemstone navigator, and began surveying the area. He was in a forest of some sorts, ways away from his kingdom, and surrounding him were large junk piles ranging all the way from burnt out microwaves, to rubber car tires. "Now, where could you be?" Sighing, the pink haired candy man rolled up his sleeves. It was going to be a long day._

 _After hours of searching, and near-death encounters with rabie-induced woodland creatures who did not take kindly to their territories being invaded, Gumball came across the miracle he was searching for: there, stuck between the hood of an old jeep, and lying underneath the remnants of an old plane wing, was a simple white refrigerator, the door sealed shut and charred black along its edges. It was nearly impossible to open, and Gumball was forced to use his laser ring to do the job for him._

 _When he finally managed to unhinge the door, the overhead sun had dropped low in the sky, resting against the horizon. A small sliver of light illuminated the refrigerator's contents._

 _The sparkles of the pink amulet winked at him._

 _._

 _._

 _._

My dear friends, I'm afraid our dip into the past must be cut short. As much fun as it was, there are more important things to discuss…

What? You mean my memories did nothing to explain our vampire's plans?

 _Really?_

You haven't guessed? Not after all of that?

Are you serious?

Hmm, well I suppose it was a little vague - but, you see, it was important! I had to go back far! You don't understand, that gem is -

Wait a second, I see what you're doing here! You're trying to get me to reveal all of this story's secrets, without even so much as some mystery. You should be ashamed. If I wasn't so polite, I'd...why i'd...spit on the ground you walk! Do you not know the art of storytelling?

Okay, yes I know I left you in a cliffhanger with Fionna - no she's not in danger!

...yet.

Fine, you know what? I'll get back to Fionna. There. Happy? But before that, there is one more thing to say. Sit back down and listen to me, and no, this is not about the past. Hopefully afterwards, Marshall Lee's motives will be revealed.

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.

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Cake slams her paw against the meeting table furiously, rattling the teacups that sit far too close to the edge. Her eyes hold a vicious gleam in them, and she balefully looks down upon the individuals scattered around the table, warning them of her insatiable anger that should not be taken lightly.

"Fionna is missing," she states in a matter of fact way, catching each of her colleague's eyes before continuing, "and you cowards are more focused on some stupid threat from the Night-O-Sphere - a place, might I add, that has been in isolation from the rest of Aaa for _years_. For furball's sake, the letter wasn't even a threat!"

"But it was written in blood!" cries one of the banana guards. There is a murmur of agreement from the others.

"It was red pen!" Cake hisses. She's sure her fur is sticking up, and under different circumstances she would have licked it back into place, but it most certainly isn't the time for that. Instead, she continues her heated glare as her mind shifts back to the threat-letter.

The letter _had_ been a threat of sorts, Cake could admit that. It was a surprise to say the least. Not only had the Night-O-Sphere been in isolation for almost a century, maybe longer (the people of Aaa came to regard it as a myth) it had seemed to target the Candy Kingdom - and only the Candy Kingdom. Having a region that was practically lost on the map show up out of the blue, claiming ill will on a Kingdom that had been on peaceful terms since the beginning of Prince Gumball's reign was alarming. Terrifyingly so.

Cake can still remember every line:

 _Dearest Prince Gumball,_

 _It may come as a bit of a surprise to you, receiving this letter after years of isolation and the lack of communication we have come to know so very very well, but I have a bit of a favor to ask of you. This letter is for you, after all._

 _No...scratch that._

 _For the people of your lovely kingdom._

 _I'm sure you do love them so. The sweet little things, those sugar coated gumdrops and gingerbread men and women with their frosting coated houses and peppermint cobblestone roads leading to candy cane lane and their adorable naive faces that take it all in. I've never had much of a sweet tooth, you see, but I understand well that you do. You'd do anything to protect them, isn't that right?_

 _I also understand that you have other things besides candy in your extravagant, most ostentatious castle. Things such as - oh, I don't know...gems._

 _Lovely, lovely gems._

 _I'm going to cut the formalities, Bubba, and get straight to the point. You have something that I want. Something that certainly has no business being with you._

 _None. At. All._

 _The amulet - I want it. Plain and simple as that. And before you get up on your high horse, say that I'm off my rocker and the lot of it, you should know that this is not negotiable. You are to hand it over to me and that will be that._

 _Or...my dear Gumball, there will be hell to pay. This is war, my friend, and if my kingdom must fight yours, we will._

 _I await your response,_

 _Marshall Lee, The Vampire King._

Cake's blood boils just at the thought of it. However, as much as she would love to get her hands dirty and bring her righteous paw of Justice down onto this so called king, her mind is clouded with another worry, one that take precedence over any other.

The fact that Fionna is missing.

So while she understands that Gumball and The Candy Kingdom should always, no matter what, be the first priority on her list, she'd be damned liar if she said she would protect them over her sister. Besides, how can any of them even think of tackling this kind of problem without Fionna's help? She's easily one of the strongest fighters in all of Aaa, and even more so the best knight in Gumball's army (besides Cake of course). So, why is Cake the only one freaking out?

As if predicting the feline on the verge of erupting, the large candy encrusted double- doors leading into the meeting room suddenly open, revealing the cool headed candy man everyone knows and loves: Prince Gumball. His aura is certainly a calming one, and even Cake begins to feel a wave of relaxation take over her body as he struts by her. Gumball just has that effect on people. It's one of the skills he had manifested when he took over the job as ruler of the kingdom. The rest of his army lets out a sigh of relief.

Gumball takes his seat at the head of the table, his posture impeccable, and his chin tilted upwards towards the crystalline rock candy chandelier above. His superiority is palpable, and he's the only man Cake knows who can dress in pink and still be considered intimidating. Gumball lets out a cough.

"Hello," he greets, "I'm sure all of you have heard word of…" his sentence falters. "You know."

Cake knows. Cake knows damn well. "Fionna," she states.

"Yes," Gumball sighs into his affirmation, "Fionna." While his exterior is calm and collected, Cake knows that on the inside, Gumball is in a state of panic. It's no secret that the man has regarded Fionna and Cake his favorites in his army (perhaps everyone knows this besides the rather brain dead banana guards). Which means it's no surprise Gumball is worried. However, as King it is in his duty to remain stoic and unaffected by such matters, as spreading fear would certainly do no good to his citizens. Not to mention, being a man of science and reason means keeping a level head is a must. Still, Gumball's heart is a pile of gooey marshmellow, and it's softness for Fionna is as thick as molasses.

Cake feels the need to inform him of the army's lack of care on the matter. "These turbo nerds," she grits out, "are telling me that the safety of Fionna is not a priority." Her eyes glare daggers at the banana men. "They're more worried about that stupid letter."

Gumball remains silent.

Her tail droops. "Gumball," she pleads.

"Look, Cake I understand your worry for your sister - we all do - but you know as well as I do that Fionna is a fighter. She's tough as nails, and it will take more than some mediocre kidnapping to bring her down," Prince Gumball replies.

"B-but-"

"Besides, there is still an importance regarding the letter you mentioned." Gumball reaches inside his pocket, retrieving a small grey device with a single red button on its top. Delicately, Prince Gumball lifts a finger and pushes down. There is a series of whirring sounds that follow, before above them, a glass case is slowly lowered down. Cake can see the faintest pink glow from within.

"Whoa," breathes one of the guards.

"This," Gumball begins, "is the amulet Marshall Lee spoke of in his letter." He catches Cake's eyes with his own. "I have reason to believe that the vampire's letter was no mere prank, and if he really did manage to get his hands on this...our kingdom and the rest of Aaa will be in ruins."

Cake's eyes go wide. "W-what?" she splutters.

"What if I told you this amulet had enough power to change the course of our futures? What if...what if I told you it already has before?"

Cake's heart begins to beat faster. "Cake," the prince says gravely, "Marshall Lee wants this to do just that: change the future. In it, I'm sure life as we know it will not be in our favor."

"But you would never hand it over! There's no way he could take it, not with me here! Not with-" her voice catches in her throat.

 _Fionna._

Gumball lowers his voice. "Cake...I also have reason to believe that he is the one behind Fionna's capturing."

Cake's body goes numb.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, this has certainly been overdue. I wish to apologize for that. But I am happy to say I have more free time now, and the next chapter should be out relatively quicker (don't hold me to that). No but seriously, I am in no way leaving this story unfinished, it is just a matter of finding time to work on it. Don't worry though :) Thank you all for being so patient with me. It means a lot.**

 **Thank all of you who have reviewed, favored, or followed. It means so much to me.**


	5. Escape

As a storyteller, you learn quickly which stories should begin with once upon a time.

We know this, because we have grown up accustomed to this frame, the one where good fights evil, (because evil is always to blame, of course) and the princess finds her prince (because true love's kiss should exist, right?), and most of all because there will always, _always,_ be a happy ending. This is the framework which we abide to, not because it is the only solid path we can follow, but because it has been engraved into our minds _so-many-many-times_ that it is practically second nature. Only, you must understand, not every story is a fairy tail; not every ending is exactly happy. The reason many of them are, however, can be observed on a human level - one that our dear Fionna understands well.

We, as humans (or as beings with a human conscious) are afraid of the dark.

Yes, the dark. The absence of light. The dead battery to our flashlights. The unknown figure standing in its depths. We are afraid of the uncertainty that is accompanied by something we cannot see, and _that_ , my dear listeners, is where our fear comes to rise. We do not enjoy uncertainty, or the act of being afraid - especially when dealing with something as delicate as our futures.

So what do we do?

We invent for ourselves hope. That is what fairy tales in tail. Because if we _imagine_ , right down to the core of our hearts, hard enough that our noses crinkle and our toes curl within our boots, then maybe - _just maybe_ \- we can end up like those men and women in the story books: happy. We get our princes and princesses, and we triumph over evil, and we _die as Heroes!_ Isn't that what we've all dreamed about? At least once in our lives? The answer is yes. We've all dreamed of a happy ending.

This story, as you have already witnessed, did not begin with once upon a time.

Perhaps some stories don't need that.

.

.

.

Fionna had never ran so hard in her entire life.

Maybe it was the sheer adrenaline rush she had received after the cell door opened, or maybe it was all of the fear and uncertainty she had bottled up that had finally burst into one giant leap of _oh-my-glob-get-me-out-of-here!_ Whatever it was, one thing was for certain: it may have been her only chance at escape. That one factor was her driving force, the one that pushed her to keep going, even if her legs were on fire and her muscles ached - escaping Marshall Lee was essential. She needed to get back home to Cake and Prince Gumball, and to the familiar: the place she belonged. Down there, in that dusty cell with those surveying red demon eyes was no place for her.

Even if Marshall Lee's touch had been one of comfort. Even if it was one that sent an electric current jolting through her body, zipping past her nerves and dancing across her skin, one that made Fionna feel as if she were buzzed on caffeine - awake, alive, and _exhilarated._ Even if his eyes were so darn intriguing Fionna felt like screaming; they'd be a deep blood red one minute, and a soft pink the next, and every time there was no escaping their pull. Even if they screamed 'trust me' loud enough for it to echo through her heart. Fionna _knew_ , there was something - _something hidden in those eyes_ \- that Marshall must have been hiding. Even so, Fionna knew she had to let her curiosity go.

So she ran like hell and didn't look back.

The adventuress sprinted past countless cell rooms that blurred together, soon becoming a grey meaningless streak across her peripheral vision. Her footsteps pounded against the ground, and she let the rhythm of it carry her. _The guard led me down this same road,_ she thought, calculating her next move, _I have to follow it, and I'll be outside in no time._

The layout of the dungeon was simple enough. There was a single corridor running through the middle, flanked on both sides by prison doors. Now that she had escaped, Fionna could see that they were outlined by a green glow - some kind of magical seal must have been keeping her from escaping. Then, what had she pressed to open the doors? Fionna tried not to think about it as she continued her run.

"After her!" she heard a shout of frustration behind her, and Fionna felt something as heavy as lead drop into her gut at the sound of an alarm. _Crap!_ She tried to ignore the increased pounding of her heart - it was almost as if it were trying to break free from her ribcage.

The exit came into sight, but to Fionna's horror the doors were beginning to seal shut. The alarm must have gave her position away. She wasn't going to make it. She was going to be trapped and they were going to capture her again. No - _no_! Fionna let out a strangled cry, the one an animal makes before it's backed up into a cage: something angry, and harsh, and filled with rebellious determination.

She was not going back in that cell. She was going home, and she was seeing Cake.

Fionna ripped at the bottom of her dress - the white one Marshall had provided - until her legs became free, and picked up her pace. She flew down the corridor, gusts of wind trailing behind her, blowing out the candles that lined the walls as she went. The doors were closing fast, but she saw it: a sliver of an opening. She could do it. She just needed a little more - _bam!_ Fionna felt her body lurch through the air, before landing hard on the ground, completely knocking the wind out of her.

"Ack!" she cried, a cough racking her body. She tasted something metallic in her mouth, and knew immediately that it was blood. She must have bitten her tongue. Above her stood one of Marshall's guards. He stared down at her with eyes void of pupils, the irises black and watery. His face was angular and demonic, the top of his head covered in red blotches that stood out proudly against his pale skin. Fionna winced as she felt the cool metal of his blade press against her collar.

"Nice try, sweetheart," he mocked, grabbing a fistful of her dress and holding her up to his face. She was close enough to smell the putrid stink of his breath. Her nose crinkled in disdain. Fionna glanced to her left where the gates - large and metal - were almost completely sealed. She felt a droplet of sweat trickle down the side of her neck. _Think Fionna, think!_

Fionna did what any normal person would have done in that situation: she sneezed.

It was a loud one, one that sprayed enough spit to drench her opponent from head to toe, surely soaking through his uniform. The guard must have been just as surprised, because he promptly let his guard up. _Here's my opening,_ Fionna inwardly cheered. She swung her foot backwards as far as it would go, before delivering a defining kick right to his family jewels. The demon guard yelped, a stream of curses flowing out of his mouth as he dropped her.

"You little rat!" cried the guard, attempting to slash her with his sword. Fionna ducked as the silver blade came soaring over her head, and, seeing an opening, grabbed his hand that held the sword. The guard has used enough force in his swing that Fionna was able to toss him over her head, slamming his back against the ground as hard as she could. "Oomph!" Placing her foot against his wrist, Fionna then ripped the weapon out of his hands. It was hers now.

Fionna knew there was no time to waste. She bolted again, but nearly a foot away Fionna saw that the gates had nearly shut for good. Her lungs screamed, her muscles ached, and her head was still woozy from her fall. But she couldn't stop, _it wasn't an option._ She needed to make it through that gate. So, with a final burst of energy, Fionna made a lunge for the opening.

It was almost as if everything slowed down. Fionna felt the soles of her feet against the cool ground, her legs bent, and the swoosh of air beneath them as she rose. Behind her, shouts of guards became muffled in her ears. In front of her, she saw the gate, nearly all the way closed, but she was almost there, _she could do this._ Her body twirled mid-air, until her stomach faced the wall to her right, and Fionna's arms extended out in front of her, making her body as straight as a rod. She sucked in a huge breath as her body passed through the gate.

And then, she saw a black blur dart across her vision, and for a moment she could have sworn she heard the flapping of wings.

But that didn't matter, because she had made it outside.

.

.

.

Marshall Lee watched with a glare as Fionna's body drifted out of sight, and clutched the spot where she had kicked him in pain. _Ouch,_ he hissed inwardly, cursing her for being so aggravatingly obstinate. Why was it, that everytime he thought he had her wrapped around his finger, she managed to break free? She was impervious to his charms, bounced back from any hit he managed to dish out, and seemed to always - _always -_ be one step ahead of him. Getting her down to his kingdom had been enough trouble as it was, but now this?

And then, Marshall Lee smiled. _Perfect._ She was everything he had expected, and more. That more was the very reason he had selected her as his general in the first place. Fionna's escape was merely part of what made her valuable. After he realized this, Marshall Lee felt a lot better.

"Guards!" he called, interrupting them from their chase after Fionna. "Let her go."

"What!?" one protested.

Another one had the nerve to grab Marshall by the shoulder as he spoke, "Are you crazy!? You're jeapordizing all that we've worked for! And for wha-" he was instantly cut off. Marshall Lee watched in satisfaction as his body dropped to the floor. The vampire removed his axe-base from the guard's stomach - he had cut through his armor in one swipe. The remaining guards all took a cautionary step back. Marshall pinned them in place with his gaze, the bloodied stare enough to remind them who really was in charge, because as long as those red red - oh _glob why are they so red -_ demon eyes were blinking, Marshall Lee's power was alive and well. He had seen hell and crawled right back up to live and tell the tale, and no mere being as weak as that guard was going to tell him differently. He was a damn King.

"Have I made myself clear?" he asked. They all nodded. "I want one of you after her - _and only one_. The rest of you ring the alarm." One of the guards gave an affirmative, before disappearing out of sight to fight Fionna.

"Um, sir?" asked one of the guards, flinching back from Marshall as if the very notion of him speaking was deserving of the vampire's axe-base. "I thought you wanted to let her go? If we sound an alarm, they'll close the gates and…" Marshall Lee smiled. He floated in the air so he hovered directly above the guard's trembling figure.

His face was a mere inch away as he spoke, very calmly, "I am very much aware." Marshall sighed. "You are underestimating her, and that is something none of us can afford to do. You see, Fionna does her best under the worst situations. If she didn't have fear, she wouldn't be able to escape."

"B-but sir, why do we want her to escape? She'll die out there."

"Which is why I'm going after her. But trust me, she won't die. Fionna the Human is a rare creature, and as such, it will take a lot more than my kingdom to kill her. Maybe. We will have to see, won't we? All of this is part of my plan." Marshall Lee patted the guard's shoulder, before transforming into his bat form.

He was a black streak across everyone's vision as he flew towards the gates.

 _Fionna will understand soon enough that she needs me just as much as I need her,_ Marshall thought. _Perhaps I was to premature with my demands. I must wait for the right moment. And then, strike._

 _._

 _._

 _._

It was night time. Or, Fionna thought it was. To be honest, she couldn't really tell in the Night-O-Sphere.

She had been running for almost an hour, and even so she still didn't feel safe. Her escape had been too easy. She knew that Marshall Lee must have been planning something. After all, there was no way the guards would have just let her by, especially when she had jumped through the gates. Something wasn't adding up, or as Cake would say, there was something fishy about the whole situation. She didn't like it one bit.

Fionna decided to rest her back against a tree to catch her breath. Surprisingly, Marshall Lee's barren kingdom did have a few areas of wildlife, which Fionna could appreciate. (Never mind that the tree's bark was pitch black and void of any foliage, that could be normal...right?).

"Ugh," she groaned, collapsing against the ground and digging her fingers into the soil beneath her. "I don't get it!" She banged her head against the tree's trunk. "Why would he let me just...escape like that? And, what am I going to do now?" She really hadn't thought about it when she was running away, but now that she had a minute to breathe, she realized how stupid she was. Fionna didn't know anything about the Night-O-Sphere, much less how to get out of it. How would she get back to Cake? It all seemed hopeless. Not only that, but the slash across her chest seemed to have reopened, and the blood was soaking through her dress fairly quickly. As much as she hated to admit it, she wished she had taken some of Marshall Lee's sparkly goop with her. For the time being, Fionna prepared a bandage out of the earlier ripped fabric of her dress. It would have to do.

Fionna racked her brain for ideas. If only she had found a map of the kingdom, then things would be clearer. "This ain't going to be easy, is it?" she spoke, holding her head up towards the dark sky above, as if she were directing the question towards the Night-O-Sphere itself.

Silence.

No, she guessed. No it wasn't. Sighing, Fionna picked herself back up onto her feet and dusted off her ripped dress (a minor casualty). "Good," she told the kingdom, "I like a challenge. It's more of an adventure that way." With a stubborn nod of her head, Fionna took off again, heading further into the pitch black of the trees.

It seemed she had entered a forest.

.

.

.

The further into the forest Fionna went, the darker it became.

The Night-O-Sphere was a bleak place most of the time. To the untrained eye, it could be seen as a wasteland, a place with no hope, an ending without a beginning...and Fionna was just that: green around the edges. She would see only the outside. However, as desolate and uncouth and _scary_ the kingdom could be, there were still parts of it that were intricate and crisp and _exciting_ , you just had to look for them. You just had to immerse yourself. But Fionna, she couldn't understand this. She wouldn't either, at least not immediately.

So when the hard cracked earth beneath her feet began to rumble, and the shadowy spindly branches above her head began to reach down towards her frame, Fionna gasped in surprised. Without warning, the ground in front of her was suddenly upheaved, sending scatters of debris and dust flying towards her face. Fionna barely had enough time to shield herself. Little rocks lodged themselves into the skin of her arms, and the air was suddenly filled with an overwhelming stench of smoke - Fionna gagged. The adventuress tried her best to gaze passed the cloud of dirt, and was shocked to see a deep pit of fire where the ground had been ripped apart. "Holy cow," she breathed, backing away from the sight. Only, she didn't get far. Something snagged her dress and lifted her body straight up into the air. Her stomach lurched as she saw the ground below her retreating. Before the inevitable plunge back down occurred, as Fionna had been bracing herself for, she was suddenly face to face with a giant dark figure, and a pair of glowing orange eyes staring right at her. It seemed to be holding her.

"Well, well, well," it murmured, a mouth suddenly appearing amid the black of it's face, "lookie what I've got! A snack!" A purple tongue shot out, licking the tops of its teeth.

"Put me down!" ordered Fionna, attempting to punch the putrid thing. Her arms flailed about her, and every time she would get close enough to land a punch, it would reel her body backwards. She groaned in frustration, her face burning in a seething rage.

"Now why would I want to do that?" There was a low rumble which must have been a laugh. "You're trespassing in my home, and that's simply something I can not forgive." Fionna scrutinized the beast before her. It seemed to be made out of the shadows, but upon further inspection she began to realize that its whole body was literally a tree, its arms the spindly branches that had once been hanging above her. She looked below her where the fire was still raging, and saw to her confusion that it didn't seem to harm the creature, let alone any of the other trees. Forgetting the situation she was in, she let her curiosity take over.

"You made that fire, didn't you?" She pointed below her. "You were watching me, and you unrooted yourself to catch me. Why isn't it burning you?" The beast blinked. Squinting at her, it lowered its face until it was a mere inch away from her own. Fionna didn't even flinch.

"You aren't from around here, are you?"

Fionna shrugged. "No, not really."

It laughed at that, louder this time. The trees around them shaked with its rumbles. "Underneath the Night-O-Sphere's soil is literal fire, child. It burns all the time, but it doesn't _harm_ anything." It said this as if it were simple knowledge, like he were telling her that the sky was blue, or that cats had nine lives. Fionna's eyes lit up in wonder.

"Really? That's totally righteous!"

"You mean it's not like this where you live?"

Fionna shook her head, the ears on her bunny hat bouncing with her. "No. Fire can kill things where I live." The tree-beast almost dropped her in shock.

"What!?"

Fionna grinned. The beast went quiet, pondering the thought of fire that could hurt things. One of its many branches stroked its chin thoughtfully. "What is your name?" it finally asked.

"My name is Fionna," she saluted. "Fionna The Human!" Her toothy grin flashed before it. "And you are?"

"I am a thousand year old beast that feeds off of the fear of tormented souls that find their way into this abyss. I've seen countless moons, lived through eons, and have been alive so long that my roots have gone deep enough into the Night-O-Sphere to where the fire stops." It brought Fionna closer. "I've tasted your kind countless times, crushed their bones against my trunk in one short flick of my branch, and you're asking me my name?"

Fionna laughed nervously. "Um...yes?"

"It's Fred."

"How lovely."

"You know, Fionna The Human, you're alright. You almost make me not want to eat you."

"Really?" Fionna smiled lopsidedly.

"Almost."

The human girl puffed out her cheeks. "Oh come on! Can't I have a break for once? I've been having the worst few days of my entire life and it's all this place's fault!" Fionna crossed her arms over her chest. She squirmed a little too (being held by the back of her neck by some freaky tree creature was not pleasant). "I'm starting to really hate the Night-O-Sphere."

"Child," the tree-demon, Fred, spoke, suddenly sounding less condescending and vicious (less like a demon) and more like the millions of rings hidden within its trunk: ancient and wise and absolute, "you cannot hate something you don't understand. That's too close to ignorance." It moved her body against one of its larger branches, allowing her a more relaxing position. Fionna breathed in deeply; she was grateful for the new arrangement.

"Please, then help me understand! I do not wish to fight you."

"Do you really believe you could triumph over me?"

Fionna didn't hesitate. "Yes."

Fred went silent. It scratched under its chin with one of its branches. "Fionna The Human, you are one of the most interesting creatures I have ever laid eyes on." It seemed to smile. "Alright then, I shall tell you some things. After all, I have called this place my home for many many years."

So its story unfolded.

* * *

 **(A/N): Hey, this has been written for a while now, just haven't had a chance to post it. So sorry for the wait! I'd like to once again say thank you to all of you who have read, followed, favored, and reviewed my story, it means a lot! I'm happy you all are enjoying it.**

 **I would really appreciate any feedback as always, good or bad. It helps with not only motivation, but my progression as an author as well.**

 **Shout out to the lovely reviewers:** **Honestreader99 and** **Kiki (who I believe I missed last time). I appreciate it!**

 **Have a lovely week!**


	6. Two-Edged

Dear lovely listeners,

I am afraid I won't be here in person to tell you the next installment of my tale - but don't worry! I have left this handy-dandy note explaining everything _._ Well, okay...not _everything_ (I won't be gone _that long_ ) but you get the picture. Anyway, I wish you all a happy reading!

Oh, I almost forgot! I should probably leave behind a few conversation parade topics! That way you won't feel so lonely without my humorous anecdotes and deep philosophical ponderings! I know you're going to miss me, so, this way it will feel like I'm really here!

Without further ado:

How are the kids? Are you still working that nine to five job you hate so much? Is the boss still a jerk? I get it, rough week huh? What, me? Well I'm alright. I just haven't thought of a proper introduction to this next installment so I'm pretending I'm not here with this conveniently placed letter. Good idea, huh? Yeah, not to brag or anything, but I can be quite clever.

…

…

Wait a second...oh, no.

FORGET I SAID ANYTHING!

That was all a joke, you see. I wasn't serious, it was for the laughs. You miss my jokes when I'm not personally telling you the story, right? Heh...heh...maybe we should just continue with where we left off…(sigh, I hate my job).

Best wishes,

The Storyteller

.

.

.

Fionna settled down upon the branch, ready to hear the demon's tale. Around them, the darkness of the forest stood out almost tangibly, the inky curtain draped around them on either side keeping whatever lay behind it out of sight. The only light to be found came from Fred's glowing eyes and mouth, and the fire below them which flickered intermittently, sending small sparks dancing through the air. The demon tree, Fred, took a deep breath, for it was time to begin his story. "Fionna the human," it spoke in its ancient and most strident voice, "you wish to hear about the Nightosphere. As old as I am, I have grown alongside this place since the beginning of time (well, from the beginning of our time I should say) and have seen this land flourish and thrive. To your human ways, this might be an odd way of putting it, but yes, this place has thrived. I am adamant about that."

Fionna listened intently, her blue eyes locked in place upon the demon's face. Fred found this almost beguiling, the way her face lit up in childlike wonder when the words tumbled from its mouth in front of her - it emboldened Fred, fomented something within its very core and somehow, Fred would have gladly told her everything about this place. Human or not, Fionna possessed a magic far stronger than anything the demon had ever seen before. Gathering up its wits, the demon tree carried on:

"The Nightosphere is, in a way, a doorway: one that is connected to your own world by necromantic means. We can traverse to and from the two at whim, although it may or may not be as easy as you think. It requires knowledge, and unfortunately for me I do not possess that knowledge - so don't ask! Ahem, _anyway_...the Nightosphere is home to my kind, and is ruled steadily by the Abadeer family."

"Marshall Lee," Fionna spat, her intent gaze melting into a scowl.

"Er, yes...the Vampire King. But, uh, there is another too...his mother."

Fionna's eyes went wide. "His mother!? I didn't know he had a mom!"

"Doesn't everyone at one point in their lives?"

"Well, yeah. But-"

"No buts! Now do you want me to carry on or not!?" Fionna instantly shut her mouth. Fred cleared its throat. "Now, as I was saying," it paused to collect its thoughts, "ah yes. The Abadeer family. You only see the present state of our kingdom, but long before Marshall Lee came into the picture, his mother ruled with an iron fist. Hana Abadeer, black haired, blue skinned, and entirely evil, was something out of a nightmare. She isn't like a normal demon - she's far more powerful. Fionna, you have to understand, she is not someone to be taken lightly. In her prime, she could do almost anything: steal souls, shapeshift, regenerate, grow to immense sizes, _you name it._ She's deathless, you know."

"Deathless?" Fionna voiced. A burst of goosebumps ran across her skin.

Prince Gumball had informed her before, about the power of immortality; it was a power not many possessed, and for good reason too. " _It is a terrible burden_ ," Gumball had warned, his eyes fixated on something beyond Fionna's reach. He did not smile; instead his face took on the blankest look Fionna had ever seen: a clean mask that would not dare betray his emotions (Fionna had thought how it was no wonder why he always kicked her butt at poker). " _Immortality means you live forever - no matter what. You can't die, not even if you want to."_ Fionna had wondered if that was a good thing. After all, she loved life - living was _epic_ , so being able to live forever sounded like paradise. Until, that is, the Prince had spoken again. " _Your entire friends and family, and everyone you've ever loved will be lost before your eyes...and there's nothing you can do about it. You'll have to live with it: the pain accompanied by the fact that they're gone and you've been left behind."_

Fionna shook her head of the memory. It hurt too much to think about him - about her home. "That sounds horrible," she told Fred, unconsciously hugging herself. She meant it.

"Perhaps," Fred agreed, rubbing its chin thoughtfully, "but Hana Abadeer seems to like it."

"I have a question."

"Go on."

"If Marshall Lee's mom is...a demon, then why is Marshall…" she trailed off, unsure of how to phrase the question.

"A vampire?"

Fionna nodded. "Yeah, why is that anyway?" Fred sighed, and stretched its branches out.

"There is a lot I must tell you."

.

.

.

Marshall Lee watched the pair from the shadows, taking note of the way one of his subjects blatantly betrayed his country's origins to an outsider. Fionna was, despite Marshall's keen interest in her, a _human_ , and as such she had no right to the knowledge of a demon. Or maybe, Marshall conceded, he was just jealous that he couldn't tell her himself. It was his family's history, after all. The king was hoping that he could share all of the information when she became his general - then she'd officially become a citizen of the Nightosphere.

 _Whatever,_ Marshall thought petulantly. It didn't matter. Having the tree demon inform her meant it would be less work for him. Still, there were many things the demon did not and would never know - secrets that Marshall Lee held onto too tenaciously, that would follow him to his grave. There were memories he spent far too long burying to let resurface.

He flapped his wings, flying over to a closer position. From his vantage point, Marshall could see Fionna more clearly. The light from Fred's eyes and mouth cast itself onto the blonde's face, illuminating the soft lineaments that made up her features, and making her already bright eyes even brighter. Her pale skin stood out like a beacon, and all Marshall had to do was keep her in his sight. The vampire perused her more carefully. Her dress was torn, it seemed, and he felt bad that she had little protection from the elements with its current state. Her bare legs were exposed, and there was already a constellation of scratches amid the sea of battle scars that made up their expanse. Marshall Lee frowned.

 _Wow,_ he thought, _it seems she's been through a lot. How many battles has she fought exactly? How long does it take for her to heal? Humans are so weak; they don't have the regeneration and healing powers we have._ Marshall pawed at his pockets until he felt the jar of green goop. He would be sure to give her this when the time was right. Sure enough, he spotted the wound of her chest, marked with a spot of deep red. _Damn, she wasn't fully healed when she escaped. Idiot, how can she be so stubborn?_

Fionna was an enigma to Marshall Lee. For one thing, she was unusually strong for someone of her statue (seriously, she was practically a kid - her cheeks were still round and chubby!) but had put up one of the best fights Marshall had ever been up against in his entire one thousand years. There was no denying the fact that Fionna needed no one to save her. Another oddity was that Fionna claimed to hate his guts, but somehow was still curious about him. When she looked at him, _really looked at him,_ it was as if she were searching for something. _For what?_ Marshall Lee wanted to find out. Knowing Fionna, she was probably searching for an inkling of good amid his dark.

Marshall Lee sighed. Fionna was curious about the Nightosphere, and he couldn't blame her for that, but it was no good getting herself caught up in its affairs. It wasn't her place. He listened as Fred began the next part of his lesson: the one staring Marshall Lee.

He closed his eyes, and as he did a memory resurfaced and floated above his head:

" _Marshall Lee," the voice had drifted into the air, light and feathery, imbuing reams of sunshine into the cramped trailer. The voice trickled through the cluttered space filled to the brim with stacks of old films, books, and noodle boxes. It stopped before entering the center of the room, which was concealed under a large dusty-looking couch. "Hey." There was a low hum that followed. "Come on now, I found the band-aids." Shuffling sounds were heard, before a tall, dark skinned man appeared in the doorway. He began crossing the threshold and, true to his word, in his hands were a couple of brightly colored bandages: red and purple ones. "Now let's get you patched up, hm?"_

Colors danced across Marshall Lee's vision. He hissed, trying to force the memory out of his mind. "No," he cried, "there's no time for that." The vampire hit his back into one of the trees, clutching his head and shaking it from side to side. He did not need to be reminded of his past. Especially not when it involved _him_.

 _You can't ignore it forever_ , a tiny voice in his head sang. Marshall growled. Yes he could. He could bottle his emotions up as much as he damn well pleased. _But why would you,_ the voice questioned, growing in volume, _after all...in your memories you can see_ _ **him**_ _crystal clear._

Again Marshall banged against the tree, trying to erase his thoughts. He didn't want to remember; it hurt too much.

 _But he's your father!_ The voice practically shouted. _You can't ignore that fore-_ Marshall screamed in frustration, and the sound of it pierced through the forest like an arrow. Below him, Fionna and the tree demon suddenly grew very quiet. The voice in Marshall's head did too. Marshall Lee cursed.

 _Fine,_ Marshall Lee relented. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts roam.

Marshall Lee didn't know why, but somewhere along the lines, his father had married his demon of a mother. Now, he wasn't calling her that because she was an awful person - _she was literally a demon_ , and being one meant that she could be especially nasty to others and get away with it. Still, for as long as Marshall could remember, their relationship had always been…strained. She wasn't exactly there for him as much as he would have liked. Marshall could have blamed it on the fact that she was, as previously stated, a "demon of a mother," but part of him had never really given up on the wish that she could have treated him like she actually loved him - or at least cared.

But Marshall Lee's _Father_ … He was human, that much Marshall could remember. He was also incredibly caring, and loving, and _accepting._ He was everything Marshall dreamed about as a father. The man would patch Marshall up if he scraped his knees, sew his toys if they tore, and read him bedtime stories every night until Marshall fell asleep (which he was always afraid to do, because his dreams were _weird and mostly nightmares, and he didn't want those no-no-no)_.

But then the Mushroom War came and his father...his _father didn't make it out alive_ like Marshall did. A tiny part of Marshall resented the fact that he himself was still breathing while his father's ashes lay buried within the ground somewhere, long forgotten by the thousand of years that had passed. Needless to say, the demon part of their family still thrived. For those rather long years, Marshall Lee was on his own (there was Simone, but he really didn't want to think of her, his heart couldn't take that) and with loneliness the black hole that was his heart seemed to grow immensely. Bitterness was an armor that Marshall Lee wore religiously, and with it came the scaling, bristling attitude he knew only too well. He let no one in, for they wouldn't understand. How could they?

It didn't help that Marshall had acquired a kind of acrid resentment for his mother (and maybe he still had these "mommy-issues" bottled up in his heart, but they weren't going away, and Marshall didn't think they would anytime soon), and yeah maybe you could say he was being an angsty teenager about the whole fry-incident, but it wasn't just because of those fries that he was mad.

It was this: being a kid who had just lost his whole world, forced to flee from the wreckage brought forth by some war he had no idea even _existed,_ and wondering what he was supposed to do, wondering who was going to save him (and realizing that no one was, because his father had died and his mother was nowhere to be seen _damn it_ ); it was putting his faith in Simone and having a mother figure in his life to replace the one that was never there for him, someone who told him that he was strong and smart and taught him the rights and wrongs of the world, only to have her ripped out of his hands _because she was trying to protect him (_ and it was all that _stupid_ crown's fault); and it was feeling so Globdamn lonely all the time and being a young kid wandering around who knows where, trying to survive and picking apart trash cans in search of his next meal; it was avoiding mutants that roamed the broken remnants of his world (this was the new world, he had to remind himself) and never being able to sleep with his eyes closed - forgoing sleep all together for it was no longer a luxury he could indulge in; it was learning "The Talk" from an old man who had lava flowing from his ears and mouth, and trying to understand why his voice kept breaking all the time, or what to do with that uncomfortable feeling between his legs -andholymotherofglob what the heck were "hor-mones" and "pub-erty?"; and it was coping with the fact that he had been living on his own for _Grob knows how long_ , and finally seeing _her -_ his mother - eating his _Globdamn_ fries and only realizing then that his mother was never going to do anything more than _take take take._ His mother had took his trust and ground it into dust and laughed as the fine particles flew away with the wind, never to be seen again.

 _That_ was the reason he could no longer afford to let anyone in; so he shut them all out.

Marshall Lee forced back the water that began to form around his eyes (he was not crying, okay!?) and reverted his attention back towards Fionna below. There was more he had to observe. Marshall couldn't afford to miss his chance to pounce - she would regret fleeing from his prison. _Glob_ , the girl had no idea what was at stake; she had no idea how much he needed her.

Below him, the tree-demon was engrossed in his story:

"Tell me, child," it spoke thoughtfully, "have you ever seen another vampire besides Marshall Lee?" Fionna thought for a moment.

"No, come to think of it, I haven't," came the adventuress' reply.

"And do you know why?" Not surprisingly, Fionna had no clue. She shook her head in response, her eyes brimming with even more curiosity. "What if I told you that Marshall Lee was the reason for their disappearance?" Fionna's eyes grew wide.

" _Wh-what_?"

Fred sighed. "Do you remember what I told you earlier, about Marshall Lee's mother being able to absorb souls?"

"Yes?"

"Well, Marshall can do the same. Before Marshall Lee entered the position of King here, the boy wasn't exactly keen on visiting his mother. He spent his time on the surface, traveling the land of Aaa so as to avoid her company."

Marshall Lee scowled from atop his perch. Did everyone know about his mommy issues!?

"Now, from what I've heard," the tree demon continued, "Marshall used to be quite the hero. Now don't you look at me like I'm crazy! It's true. Back in the beginning, the humans who had survived The Great Mushroom War were vulnerable. Sure, most may have mutated a bit, but that didn't guarantee any extra protection. They were still up against the other mutants and monsters roaming around the newly created world. I wasn't on the surface to see of course, but I have connections: roots that stretch far enough to gain some worthy information." He gestured below him to the flaming ground.

Fionna had a hard time paying attention after Fred uttered the words "Mushroom War," so while he went off on his tangent and spoke about his so called "connections," Fionna's own mind began to race.

Being an adventuress was no part time job; being top knight in the Order of Righteousness and automatic Royal Protector to Prince Gumball himself was no walk in the park either. These jobs required work. With that in mind, it made sense that ever since Fionna became issued into Gumball's castle, there was no time for schooling or tutoring. Not that Fionna had those things to begin with. Everything she knew about the world came from Cake. Sure, her sister taught her the basics (reading and writing, maybe basic arithmetic) but it wasn't enough to really peg the human girl as an intellectual. She didn't care, Fionna thought with her muscles anyways. Besides, no amount of money could ever make Fionna sit through a lesson taught by one of Prince Gumball's selected tutors (seriously, the ever present monotone in their voices was torture!). Still, hearing Fred speak of a major part of Aaa history made Fionna wish she had taken Gumball up on his offers.

The Mushroom War wasn't entirely a foreign phrase in Fionna's mind. Cake had mentioned it offhandedly to Fionna before, but Fionna doubted even Cake knew the whole story. Fionna had gathered more information around the castle as well, but it wasn't enough to paint a whole picture. Everything was quite blurry from Fionna's perspective. That didn't matter though. She was more concerned with the whole human factor. Her kind had always been a mystery to Fionna, and hearing Fred speak of them so casually, so naturally...it made her eyes a tad watery (tad, because she quickly forced down the tears that threatened to spill, there was no room to show weakness).

"Humans?" she found herself asking, despite her best efforts to bite her tongue. Fionna's senses seemed to become hypersensitive. The cool night air wrapped itself around her frame as if it were gripping her with its hand. She shivered. The fire below them was too far away for Fionna to feel warm.

"Aye," nodded the tree, "your kind."

Fionna folded her arms across her chest. "So what does Marshall have to do with any of this?"

"He was protecting them when he got bit."

"What do you mean protecting them?"

"There was a small band of 'em. They were living near the woods or something. In case you didn't know, Aaa was plagued with vampires at the time. The humans all lived in fear. So Marshall, at this time in his life he had been eighteen, maybe a little older, who knows? The point is, this demon of a teenager had somehow been chummy with these humans. They say he was some sort of an avenger. He was wild looking, with shaved hair, deranged eyes, and a stake in his back pocket."

"You mean he hunted these vampires?" Fionna asked, her eyes wide in shock.

"You're surprised?"

"Well...yeah. I mean, shouldn't I be? He's a vampire now, it seems a bit off."

"Get used to that, kid. Nothing is what it seems; this rule goes for everything you'll find down here. Remember that."

A sigh. "Right, okay. Of course." Fionna let out a small chuckle. "Should have known. Well, go on then."

"There's not much more to say. He, well, he got bit, but Marshall knew how to fight, and he was no mere mortal. In the end Marshall Lee absorbed the vampire's soul. I don't know every detail, I don't know the vampire's past, but I do know that that's how Marshall got his powers. There were a number of vampires soul's to steal, and Marshall took them without any remorse."

"So when Marshall calls himself the King of the Vampires…"

"He really is King."

There was a sudden silence that hung in the air. Fionna stood transfixed, watching blankly at the way Fred's glowing eyes cast shadows against its barked face as she soaked in the information.

Marshall Lee had immense powers, Fionna came to realize - immense powers that had been used time and time again to torture her own kind, to wreak havoc among those weaker than themselves. It was scary, terribly so, because Fionna knew that if anything came in the way of what Marshall Lee wanted, he would feel no regret in using his abilities to prevent it. Even if it meant killing. But at the same time...he had only obtained those powers to save other people's lives.

Fionna groaned in frustration - he was just so _aggravating!_ His ambiguity made her want to scream. How could she hate him when he showed signs of, dare she say it, _good?_

"This is the worst," Fionna mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling.

"I'm afraid, Fionna the Human," Fred spoke up, it's voice suddenly strident, laced with a pitch that made the hairs on the back of Fionna's neck stand up, "that you are about to experience much much worse."

"What do you m-" Fionna gasped. Her heart plummeted straight into her stomach when she saw the looming shadow of one of Fred's branches hurdling straight towards her. She scrambled to get out of the way, barely escaping the demon's strike. "What the flip, man!?" Fionna jumped off her perch as another branch made its way towards her. Her stomach lurched. Fionna leaped out of the way and almost missed a safe landing place - only catching hold of a branch belonging to a surrounding tree last minute. Using her strength, Fionna pulled herself up. "What the heck are you doing!?"

"The story is finished, stupid girl. Now it's time for dinner!" Fred's purple tongue flicked itself across the demon's upper lip. It made another grab for her, but Fionna evaded. "Run! It makes this so much more rewarding." Its laugh echoed across the forest. Fionna's breathing got more ragged and she felt her eyes water as the wound across her chest burned wickedly.

"S-stop!" Fionna's voice cracked. All of a sudden the human girl's foot slipped against a mossy branch. She fell flat on her back on the branch below her. Her eyes widened in fear as she saw Fred's own branch looming over her figure - it seemed something final and in that moment felt like death itself was knocking at her door. This was it. There was no way she could avoid the onslaught that would follow.

Fionna gave a small whimper and braced herself for what was about to happen.

.

.

.

You know those stories where the girl is swept off her feet by some dashing hero in shining armor? I don't mean to generalize, but it seems almost routine the way the damsel in distress falls victim to this fate; time and time again she will weep tears of loneliness waiting for that man, the one who will travel through hell and fire just to catch a glimpse of her tear streaked face, the one who will be beaten and bruised and bloodied beyond belief in hopes of making sure those tears never hit the ground, yes, the one who will save the day with a smile on his face and take the girl in his arms off into the blistering sunset. We can romanticize it anyway we please.

But picture this: the princess who was tired of waiting. The one so fed up with feeling sorry for herself that she gathered up the ruffles of her dress and ripped them to shreds, declared herself her own knight and took a rusted dagger to plunge into the heart of the dragon that locked her away. Picture the girl who saved herself and rode off into the sunset with a smile on her own Glob-damn face. This girl would eventually travel through hell and fire just for the fun of it, and laugh at how stupid she had felt, locking her own strength away in exchange for a frilly white handkerchief to wave in the air. This girl would save princes, defeat monsters, and do it all because she knew how it felt to be so lonely and helpless and lost.

The girl I am talking about is of course Fionna.

So could you imagine her surprise when that inevitable hit from Fred never came? When she opened her eyes expecting to feel a million splinters cutting through her skin and slicing her open as if it were a box cutter, only to be untouched - unscathed - _alive_. Could you imagine how shocked she was, to see Marshall Lee in front of her, axe base in hand and demon eyes bloodied in rage and the remains of Fred's branched arm sliced cleanly in half?

She was shocked. She was completely, unquestionably, without a doubt shocked.

Fionna's breath caught in her throat. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

She watched as the vampire shook his head in a laugh, the soft curve of his pale neck glowing from what little source of light there was and turning towards her beaten frame, black fringe sweeping softly against his forehead. His red gaze burned deeply into her own, most likely searching for any signs of pain. She clenched her fists. How dare he act as if he cared. The sides of his mouth quirked up, as if he could hear her thoughts. "I'm saving you," he told her cheekily and almost dematerialized as he dodged another one of Fred's hits. Fionna's blood boiled.

"I never asked you to save me!" she screeched. "Nor do I need you to!" The adventuress scrambled to her feet.

"Tch, that's not what it looks like from my view."

"Why you-"

"Relax, Fionna." All of a sudden she felt his hot breath against her neck. She twirled around, trying to face him, only to find air. "Don't get so distracted." Her eyes went wide as she realized what he meant, and quickly barrel rolled out of the way - one of Fred's branches skimmed her head. "Maybe you don't need me to save you," Marshall's voice seemed to echo throughout the forest, "but at least let me help you fight this battle."

"I'd rather die!" she spat.

"My my," Fred's voice rattled in a sneer, "I didn't realize you were on Marshall Lee's side, Fionna the Human." His eyes seemed to flame even more in rage. "It will feel good eating you, now that I know this little fact. You won't charm any more information out of me, brat!" One of his branches swept at her feet, knocking her clear off of where she stood. She yelped and flailed her arms, trying to grab hold of another branch. It was no good. She was plummeting closer and closer to the ground below her. Luckily Marshall Lee quickly materialized above her. The Vampire King wrapped his arms around her smaller frame with a wink, and flew back up to a safer position. "You were lying to me, weren't you, you disgusting human!" Fred screamed in rage. "You knew all about Marshall Lee and the Night-O-Sphere, didn't you!? You were stalling this whole time!"

"No!" cried Fionna. "I swear I didn't!" She unwrapped herself from Marshall's grip, eliciting a dramatic eye roll from the vampire.

"Yeah buddy, she's not with me anyway. Between you and me, she's not really my type," said vampire quipped.

"Stop interfering Marshall!"

"Hey I'm only trying to help!"

"Well you're not!"

"ENOUGH," roared the mighty tree demon. Both Fionna and Marshall instantly shut up. "I'm sick and tired of your games!" There was a loud ripping noise that suddenly cut through the air - a pulling, tearing, and unearthing sound. Fred screeched as its legs became rooted from the ground, cracks of dirt opening up like great lacerations around him. Fire burned in its wake, pooling at their feet and climbing Fred's body until it reached its open mouth. Fionna stared, transfixed as she watched the creature's transformation.

The Night-O-Sphere was a hellish place, Fionna then realized, but there was something truly awe inspiring about it too -a perfect paradox it seemed, for everything Fionna witnessed was both unquestioningly terrible and undeniably beautiful as well. It was terrifying but exciting. It was something dead yet so very much alive. Even its creatures were double sided: Fred, with its ancient wisdom and level headed understanding could break at the drop of a hat - be reduced to nothing more than a burnt out piece of charcoal in mere seconds; Marshall Lee was no different, with his confusing ambiguity between good and evil.

How could she ever survive in such a realm?

Maybe she needed to abandon some part of herself, Fionna rationalized. If she were good all the time, then there was nothing double sided about her. If she always did things according to the book, then where would she be? A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her neck as she thought. Her eyes darted towards Marshall Lee.

"Marshall," she spoke, swallowing her pride.

That damn vampire must have read her mind, because she swore his eyes flashed with mirth. "Yes, Fionna dear?" he replied, batting his eyelashes. He smirked afterwards, and she could see the tip of his fang poke out against his lips. Fionna growled.

"I'm willing to make a temporary alliance with you - but only for this fight!"

"Oh?" He was smirking again. He was freaking smirking!

"Are you in or are you out?" Fionna pressed again. She was so tired of his shit. Marshall Lee had the gall to tap thoughtfully against his chin, feigning pensiveness. If she wasn't trying to win him over, she might have punched him.

Marshall Lee finally smiled. "Alright, Fionna the human. But once you make a deal with a demon, you find it hard to go back to the way things were before."

"What are you trying to say?"

There was no time for him to answer, of course, because Fred chose that exact moment to fire another attack. This time, he sucked in a huge breath before spitting a number of spiky splinters at them. Fionna wasn't waiting to find out just how sharp they really were. She performed a few sick back flips in her attempts to dodge, then skidded to a halt to begin her charge. She took the stolen sword strapped to her back and ran at the tree-demon with all her might. Marshall Lee was kind enough to grab her and fly her towards her target.

She belted out a battle cry and brought her sword down upon Fred's demonic photosynthesizing body.

* * *

 **(A/N): Hello there lovely readers! Terribly sorry for the long wait, but I wanted this chapter to be perfect. It is also the longest one so far! I've had this done for a while, but I have been stressed with school and needed to focus on my work. So I used the time to fine tune the chapter every now and again. Anyway thank you for all being so patient and kind.**

 **Shout out to the reviewers from last chapter:** **Honestreader99, Sterlingstarz, and fan. :) Really appreciate it. Thank you to those who have favored or followed as well! Means a lot!**

 **Reply to guest (fan): Thank you so much! It means a lot to hear you say that! I hope you haven't forgotten about this story haha sorry for the wait!**

 **Anyway thank you all once again. Until next time!**


	7. Feathers

Well, well, well, hello again my lovely listeners. I do hope you've been having a wonderful day. You know, we are just entering the Month of Feathers this hour: expect light showers and soft breezes to come. I'm sure looking forward to it.

But of course, you aren't here to listen to me make talk about mundane things like the weather. Of course not! Preposterous! How could I be so silly?

You're here to hear my tale. How are you finding it so far, I wonder? Pardon my curiosity, but it is of my nature.

Speaking of nature, I believe there is something of value I must tell you before we carry on with the story (oh stop your _complaining!_ ). What I mean is, have you ever wondered why they call this month, the Month of Feathers?

No? Well then you're in for a treat.

You see, long before Fionna came into the picture, when the kingdoms were just starting out, there was an old legend. It was about the Witch Doctor, Madame Corbeau, who they said had blood made out of liquid fire and hair the color of molted raven feathers (beautiful, no?). She was blind, actually, but that only contributes to the tale.

She lived in an old chateau, I believe, and offered her services to weary travelers. I had mentioned that she was a witch doctor: smoke was constantly rising from her chimney, because she was always brewing up some kind of medicine (or magic potion, who knows?). She could tell herbs, plants, and spices by smell alone. Her cures were renowned across the land. Probably one of her greatest skills was her ability to get children to drink her medicine - she didn't even need to add a spoonful of sugar!

However, there was a reason many were, even after witnessing the smiles on the faces of those she had helped, weary of coming to her doorstep. After all, she was intimidating, with shadows that seemed to accumulate around her as if she were made of the dark: they would seep into the pale of her face and span themselves over the whites of her eyes. She rarely ventured outdoors, save to gather wild flowers or other rare plants. Most of all, even though she was blind, it felt as if she were staring straight through your soul.

One look make the strongest break out into goosebumps - I get chills just thinking about it!

And then, there was one day that...that someone decided that she was too dangerous - too much of a threat. Consequently, they gathered up a bunch of people and decided to burn the barn in which she kept her ingredients. The smell of burning plants and potions made the air thick with something resembling an omen.

Everyone _knew_ that there was something wrong. Everyone _knew_ that those people had made a grave mistake.

You see, that very someone who had started it all, well...his daughter became very ill the following day. _Very very_ ill indeed. He pleaded to the witch, "Please, help my daughter! She is very sick, she needs-"

Madame Corbeau interrupted him before he could finish, "You come to me with pleading hands tinged red with the deed of what you've done. I can not help your daughter, nor will I." Again he pleaded, until finally she cracked. "Fine, I will aid in your request, but know this, your daughter's sickness can not be fought with her current state. Her body is not strong enough to fight it. However, there is a way I can save her."

"Anything! Please, she is all I have left! I'm sorry for what I did - I'll make it up to you. I'll rebuild your barn, I'll help you gather more ingredients, please! Just help my daughter!"

"Alright sir, but I warn you...don't bite the hand that feeds you." She cackled then, slow and bone shaking, promising something he could not comprehend. "This is the only way to save her."

That little girl, have you guessed it? The witch turned her into a bird.

Funny, what people can do when you set them off.

.

.

.

The clean slice of metal slashed through the cool night air, the sound of it reverberating outwards from the heart the forest. It was an atrocious sound, one that caused flying demons hidden in the trees to take flight out of fear, but one Fionna knew well. Her muscles ached; her torso was on fire; she put everything she had into that hit, driving the sword deep down into Fred's bark.

And what a hit it was.

Not only was it strong enough to cleave straight through Fred's trunk, but it kept going. Her body traveled down the entirety of it, picking up more and more speed and allowing Fionna's sword the force needed to deliver a defining blow. She had never felt so powerful. Fire burned along side her, the pool of orange exploding out of Fred like a geyser as she opened its body up. The flames wrapped themselves around her frame, encasing her body in a shield of luminosity. She was glowing, incandescent - _eternal_.

She felt…she felt...Glob _,_ she felt _alive!_

Fionna actually let out a laugh. She must have been a blur, for she was picking up so much speed. Sparks accumulated around her blade, and the embers seemed to dance around her.

Suddenly, she felt a presence beside her and turned to meet the bloodied gaze of her temporary teammate: Marshall Lee. He grinned back at her.

"You better find a way to slow down soon, human," he scolded in a teasing manner. He didn't look serious; he seemed playful. There were flames dancing in those hypnotic eyes of his, and she wasn't sure if it was because of the fire around her, or if they had always been like that; something innate that he held within his soul. The intensity of his gaze made her head feel woozy, and her cheeks began to heat. Fionna tore her eyes away from his.

She cleared her throat before speaking, "You know, if you had any plans on how I should do that, it would help." The blade began to wobble in her grip. She was no longer accelerating, just falling at a constant speed. Even so, it was enough speed that if she were to hit the ground at any moment, she would surely die.

SPLAT!

Fionna shivered at the thought. Still, she couldn't stop herself. The thrill of her situation was just too much to bare. She felt energized. She wished she could fall like this forever, stuck in an unstoppable state of euphoria and adrenaline.

At her right, Marshall Lee was still grinning. He was diving head first towards the ground below them, keeping a steady pace beside her. If he was about to pass her, he would open his wings up ever-so-slightly to bring himself back up to her level. The gleam of the fire reflected off of the white of his tooth, peeking out from the cavern of his mouth. Fionna tried her best not to let it distract her. "We better hurry then," he spoke, softly: a buzzing hum emitting through his throat.

Fionna gasped as she felt his arms wrap around her, and again when she saw the ground nearly inches from her body. An inaudible scream ripped through her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut. This was it - she was going to die - the thrill was over, and now she could only prepare for the worst. Fionna let the grip on her sword falter, and wrapped her arms around Marshall's torso.

And then...the hit never came.

She waited, before mustering up enough courage to open her eyes. When she did, she found the familiar red of Marshall Lee's and let out a sigh of relief. He was hovering above the ground, and she sat nestled within his arms. As for Fred, it was nothing but a charred piece of wood, smoking pitifully where her sword had obliterated its entire being.

The only thing she could do was choke out a strangled kind of laugh. She was just so relieved. "We did it!" Fionna cried.

Marshall Lee placed her gently on the ground. The space between them grew very very quiet, their breaths hushed and mingled together in the cold night air. Fionna's heart pounded. Her thoughts were muddy, and it was hard for her to understand what the heck just happened.

She tried picturing the things she knew: Fred was defeated and she was alive.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Rest easy.

The two of them stood in the remnants of Fred's outbreak: the ground beneath them unearthed and overflowing with harmless flames, and the atmosphere encased in a warm glow. Fionna had never landed a hit so hard, and it almost scared her. How had she managed to erase something off the face of the planet in one defining blow? She wished Cake could have seen it.

But Cake wasn't there.

Instead, she had Marshall Lee: the Vampire King who had admittedly saved her - _no,_ not saved...helped unlock something inside her that allowed _her_ to save _them_. He was there when her mind went blank, when she lifted her sword (the plain sword made out of thin metal and rust accumulated at the tip), over her head and slashed it down upon Fred's demon body in one hit. He stood beside her as she did what heroes could only dream of, what she had been attempting to do for _years_. In all honesty, she was speechless.

This man - this _demon_ \- had allowed her to do the impossible. There was no way in hell a normal human could have done that.

And yet she did.

Time stood still. Their eyes met again, and Fionna felt a surge of butterflies rip through her body. It was all _red-on-blue-on-red-on-blue_ , a smoldering kind of fire burning bright and true between the two of them. It was like being in a trance. Fionna couldn't help it: her breath hitched.

Marshall Lee stared at her with wonder, his usual smirk gone completely - instead there was a small opening of his mouth, as if he were about to speak but couldn't. Fionna didn't blame him, she was just as speechless. Something within her must have been pounding against her ribcage, trying to get out. And what was with her face heating up so suddenly?

Fionna wet her lips nervously. "Wh-what?" she questioned, her voice breathy.

Marshall Lee pushed back his hair at the fringe. Fionna could see his eyes better now. They were bright and powerful; they were red and full. "I knew it," he breathed. The vampire began to hover inches off the ground as if he suddenly felt a thousand times lighter. "I knew it!"

"Knew what?" Fionna was confused. Why the heck was he smiling? Why did he look so...so... _amazed!?_ She let out a yelp as Marshall Lee without warning grabbed her hands. His were cold.

"I knew there was something about you that was special! By Glob, _I knew it!_ Fionna, I've finally found you!" He let out a cackle, unhooking his hands from her own and soaring high up into the sky.

"F-found me!?" she squeaked. "What do you mean?" Marshall didn't appear to be listening to her. He was lost in his own world, mumbling nonsense under his breath and smiling wide and open.

"I've been waiting for years for this moment. _Finally,_ and without a moment to lose." He turned toward her, suddenly and without warning. "Fionna, do you realize what this means?"

"Uh, clearly not! And would you please come over here and speak normally? _Hey!"_ He grabbed her hands again, his icy skin practically burning her.

"It means that this place finally has a chance at reviving itself!"

"I...what?"

"There's no time to explain! We have to-"

"We have to what!?" Fionna interrupted, ripping her hands away from his embrace. She hid them protectively under her armpits. "If you think I'm going with you after everything that has happened then you're crazy!" She ground her foot into the ground. She was enraged. _Glob,_ she wanted to snap his neck! "Did you forget you kidnapped me!? Did that not cross your mind?"

"Oh would you forget that!" Marshall Lee fired back. "That doesn't matter any more! What I am talking about is far more pressing."

"I don't care! We aren't friends."

For a second, a flash of realization hit Marshall's features - he looked almost sad. Fionna couldn't be sure though, for he quickly hardened once again. "So what? Fionna, I _need_ you, not for the sake of myself but for the sake of this kingdom!" His eyes were absolutely smoldering.

Fionna groaned. "What the heck are you talking about!?"

"I'm talking about the amulet."

.

.

.

Prince Gumball was sat at his lab bench peering blearily through his tired eyes at the vials before him. He had been working for _days,_ surviving on nothing but sugar packets and energy drinks. His back ached, and he was in desperate need of a good night's rest.

 _You know you experiment when you're nervous,_ came the voice of his subconscious. Gumball glared at its accuracy. _Or when you're worried...or scared or-_

Gumball scooted his chair backwards notably fast. "I have every reason to be worried," he protested. His knuckles found their way to his eyes where he began to rub the sleep away. "And nervous," he added, mumbling the words under his breath as if to hide them. His leg bobbed up and down from underneath the desk - a nervous tick he had never really been able to control. Minutes passed. He grew even more restless, up until the point where his eyes flicked towards the letter on his desk, the same one he had read to Cake during their previous meeting. He reached for it, scanning its contents for anything of use.

The Night-O-Sphere was declaring war. Prince Gumball didn't want it to be true, but from what he read it seemed inevitable. After all, the kingdom was after the gemstone, and Gumball would guard that amulet with his life, even if it meant fighting.

But _Grod,_ he didn't want to fight.

He was a pacifist, darn it! Battling wasn't his forte; he left that for Fionna and Cake. Only, Fionna was gone, and he had a pretty good idea where she was taken. Not only this, but Cake was in no position to fight, too preoccupied with her worries about her sister. The feline had headed countless search parties and found no trace. She was getting frantic.

If Prince Gumball knew how to enter the Night-O-Sphere, he would. In fact, he would have done it long ago - Hana Abadeer was a woman of intelligence, if he could have spoken with her, maybe their two kingdoms could have been allied. Now she claimed that she was no longer in power - the idea made Gumball want to laugh. That woman would rather die than give up her position as ruler of the Night-O-Sphere, and Glob knew she couldn't even die if she tried.

He sighed, his thoughts roaming to the writer of the letter: Marshall Lee.

The vampire was not a stranger to Prince Gumball, they had met a number of occasions. Truth be told, they had a history together. Gumball tried not thinking about it too much, but it was hard not to. After all, how could anyone forget the demon? His red eyes were wide and hypnotizing, his dark shaggy hair a distinct feature not easily forgotten, and his attitude was certainly hard to miss. All of the snarky comments and smirks he had sent Gumball's way were still lodged in his memory, among other things.

Hearing that the same boy who had invaded his life all those years ago was now the king of the Night-O-Sphere was unexpected. Hearing that he wished to go to war was even more so.

All of that being said, suspecting him as Fionna's captor was warranted.

The prince clenched his fists together, his blood boiling (if he didn't stop his sugar coating was going to caramelize). "Darn him," he cursed under his breath.

He had no idea how Marshall Lee had figured out the gem's secret, nor why he wanted its power. Sure, he had ideas. Anyone would want what the gem entailed: the power to play Grod. Even Prince Gumball had fantasized about the prospect of creating a new world - erasing the one already thriving and existing - but it was too dangerous. After all, who knew how far that creation could take someone? To what extent was its power? How many people had tried to use it before - how many succeeded? How many failed? Would you erase the current one completely, or just alter it?

Was there any way to prevent erasing the current one; could you harness its power to only alter the existing world, to give you the upper hand instead of others?

How did it work exactly?

As a man of science Gumball was intrigued; as a man of reason Gumball was deterred. The gem conflicted him, pulled him this way and that and left him stuck in limbo between the two outcomes.

(Sometimes Gumball felt as if he kept the gem locked up not so much to keep away from others, but rather himself).

He inwardly sighed. The Vampire King was playing with fire - not the harmless flames found in his realm below, but the scalding ones on top of the surface - and he was going to get burned. If Gumball didn't understand its power, neither would the vampire. Still, Gumball doubted he would care. After all, Marshall Lee had never been too keen on not getting his way. Power was power, dangerous or not.

But even Marshall couldn't be stupid enough to use its power…

So what was he planning exactly?

.

.

.

Fionna looked at Marshall Lee like he was crazy - _Grob_ he must have been! How else wouldn't any of this make sense?

"You mean to tell me that the reason you are acting so strange is because of a piece of jewelry?" Fionna was completely at a loss.

" _No,"_ Marshall Lee sighed, "it's not jewelry it's- _look,_ you don't understand Fionna. What I am talking about is an item very special and very dangerous, one that I'm sure a lot of people would want to get their hands on. A lot," he emphasized, "of people."

"And that has to do with me because?"

"Because if I don't get my hands on that amulet, this realm and yours is going to be in deep trouble. I believe you're the only one who can save them."

Fionna took a deep breath. She didn't know what to think, and honestly, hearing these words out of Marshall's mouth seemed to be just another one of his ploys to get her back to his realm. Still, his words were said which such strong conviction that Fionna felt a tug of belief pull on her heart. She stared into the swirling pools of red that were his eyes. Could he really be telling the truth?

"Why _me_?" Fionna finally asked, clenching her fists down at her sides, hard enough that she began to shake. She gritted her teeth together. Everything was so confusing! She wanted to punch something - preferably his face for making her feel so conflicted.

"Fionna, don't you understand your power? You saw what you did to that tree demon - _Glob_ no mere mortal has ever been able to defeat a demon in this realm in one single blow! Hell, they would never had even come close to trying!"

Fionna said nothing.

"Look," he tried again, "I'll give you proof of why you are destined to save this kingdom." He licked his lips. "But you have to come with me." Slowly, but surely, Marshall Lee extended his hand. "Do you trust me?"

She didn't.

But she wanted to.

She didn't know what emboldened her to do so, but before she could stop it she found her small blistered hand in the cold cocoon that was his own. She ignored the fluttering of her heart when he smiled.

"You won't regret this."

.

.

.

The forest hovered over their bodies like giants. The dim light of dusk was beginning to wash over the skies, only visible through the thin gaps of foliage that would break uneven above their heads. It looked as if world around them was awash with a soft purple hue: gentle, calm, and almost healing. Despite the daunting trees that surrounded them, they felt no fear; somehow defeating an evil tree-demon seemed to have that effect on people.

Who would have thought?

The two had been walking for hours, and much to Marshall Lee's discomfort, Fionna had mostly been silent. Now, he wasn't uncomfortable because of the lack of noise (the vampire was used to a quiet, solitary life after all) it was just, he _knew_ Fionna was the type bursting with conversation. The fact that this normally hyperactive chatterbox was being quiet, well...it was unnerving to say the least. So Marshall Lee perused her carefully.

Fionna walked with her head toward the horizon, feet firmly locked in a step-by-step march, kicking up dust and debris along the path as she walked. She did not stray - _well_ , her eyes strayed. Fionna was curious, he knew, and he could see the way she tried taking in all of her surroundings, or maybe she was just on guard; every looming tree was a potential foe, her back tensing up at the slightest of sounds and her hands instinctively rushing to grip her sword. Even though the night had passed and the Night-O-Sphere's sky was beginning to lighten, even though she had been through one hell of a fight, Fionna showed no signs of stopping.

 _How the heck is she not tired?_ Marshall thought to himself. Honestly, there was no end to the amount of intrigue he felt toward her. He watched as the glow of dusk cast itself onto her smooth, pale skin, and felt a churning in his gut.

Marshall Lee, determined not to get distracted, flew farther up ahead. He was leading her to an old cave, tucked away in a deserted part of his realm's lands where many demons dared not go, mainly due to some hex his ancestors had placed underneath the soil long ago. He had discovered the enclave after sorting through some old tomes scattered in his castle's library. He never mentioned it to his mother, but he always wondered if she knew about it too.

Coughing for no real reason, Marshall looked behind his shoulder at the adventuress. "We're almost there," he informed her. He flipped his hair, trying to get back into the swing of things. "Try to keep up."

"You don't have to worry about me," Fionna mumbled. If it was a challenge he wanted, she'd give it to him. Picking up her pace, Fionna stormed ahead of him.

"Are you honestly racing me?" Marshall Lee questioned, laughing. He flew faster.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Then why are you jogging?"

"I'm not _jogging_. I'm speed walking, there's a difference! Why are you flying so fast anyway?"

It was Marshall's turn to feign ignorance. "Who said I was flying fast? Maybe you're just slow." A mischievous smile crept its way onto Marshall Lee's features. Fionna tried her best not to let a smile of her own tug at her lips.

Before she knew it, Fionna was running. She let out an involuntary laugh as she saw Marshall's shadow loom across her body - he was chasing her. Like a game of tag the two of them tried their best to surpass the other. It was hilarious to her, the way this so called King was acting like a child, humoring her in her attempts to play a game.

"You gotta do better than that," she chimed, her voice lilting, ringing in the air like a bell.

Marshall scoffed. "Oh please, I'm way ahead of you. Besides," he reminded her, "you don't even know where you're going!"

"Well I-" before she could finish her foot suddenly caught on a rock protruding from the ground. She yelped as she felt her body lurch forward, unconsciously flailing her arms in an attempt to grab onto something to keep her at bay. Unfortunately this meant accidently grabbing onto the back of Marshall Lee's shirt. Marshall Lee gave a startled grunt before he too, stumbled towards the ground. Their bodies collided, and sadly for them this meant skidding along the forest floor and then down a sudden hill that left their bodies rolling. Dirt and foliage caked their bodies, somehow not providing sufficient friction they needed to stop, in fact, the slick leaves only seemed to enhance their speed. Fionna let out a small noise of discomfort and Marshall Lee remembered the wound in her chest. He cursed. His arms wrapped around her gingerly, providing a protective shield from any outside forces, while not adding too much pressure to her wound at the same time. He heard her squeak in surprise at the contact.

Unknowingly to both Marshall and Fionna, there was a sudden cliff that broke off of the hill, perhaps caused by the large ominous cracks that lay planted in the soil. The two found themselves falling into the mouth of the hole, tumbling to their demise. Marshall Lee tried to avoid this by flying to safety, but found he could no longer move.

He was immobilized.

* * *

 **(A/N): Hello everybody. Sorry for going MIA for a little while, hope you all understand, this year has been quite busy for me. But Im trying my best to complete this story. Thank you so much for all of your support.**

 **Thank you for everyone who reviewed last chapter:** **Sterlingstarz, Tacosaurus, and guest. Means so much! And of course thank you to all who have favored, followed, or just simply read this silly story. I appreciate all of your feedback.**

 **Reply to guest reviewer: *sweats nervously* d-did you explode!? I know I haven't updated in a long time so if you did please don't haunt me as a ghost! (Anyway thank you for your review heh heh...)**

 **Have a wonderful day!**


	8. Illusions

Ah, so you've finally decided to show your face around here again!

You know, I've been waiting for you actually. It seems as if I have some explaining to do, especially after leaving our heroes in such a predicament. How many times have we seen this precipice - this inevitable cliffhanger, I wonder? Hey, don't look at me like that! I'm sorry, but it had to be done! I have to make this tale somewhat exciting, no? So don't you fret, I promise all will be revealed soon.

But first, a drink perhaps?

You know, there are some regions of Aaa that consider presenting your guests with a drink common courtesy. It is considered basic manners, like saying your please and thank you's or taking someone's coat at the door. Some even have perfected the art.

Imagine it with me.

We would sit across from one another, staring deep into eachother's eyes. This involves sharing a look of trust, reciprocity, and equality, one that is important not only for the tradition, but for its symbolic meaning as well. First, I would reach for two bottles and carefully pour the contents of each into two separate glasses. You of course, would do me the favor of saying thank you, before your hand would confidently reach for one of the glasses.

This first drink must be red, not that its position constitutes the act of taking it, _no-no-no_ , you must take the glass you deem worthy. But this drink so happens to be red: red as blood. Red as roses and poppies and the color of amour, red as rage and anger, the color that bleeds into your vision when your fist is raised. It is the color of dawn as it breaks over the horizon, and in Aaa it is the color of royalty, of princes who open their palms out toward their citizens and say, _this hand is for you._

The other glass should contain blue. Blue for clear skies and cloudless days, for the oceans that run deep and true and rivers that cut through the land like a knife. It is the color of stillness, of frozen ground that creeps in from the perpetual winters found in the north, and the color of trust between ruler and people. Some call it true blue.

These are the glasses from which you must partake. It may be a lost practice, but back long ago, this was the way.

So which do you take? Blue or red? Here's the thing. It doesn't matter. You don't pick the color, you simply pick whether you will drink or not.

Why?

Because I would say to you this, _one of these glasses contains poison, the other does no_ t. And I would smile, because of course you wouldn't understand. So you'll feel awful scared when I press you again, _which one will you take?_

You may know it's a joke of course, and we will take our drink and laugh when nothing happens, when no harm comes to anyone. You may refuse, and most do, leaving the party in such a rude and unnecessary manner. But, long ago...this practice was a test, and I'm sorry to say only a handful have passed.

Would you still drink, I wonder?

Maybe it doesn't matter, but I'll share with you this: I've always preferred the purple drink myself.

.

.

.

Marshall Lee woke up with a start. His heart, which had been darkened by years of mistreatment and frozen into ice, seemed to stop dead in it's tracks.

Where were they?

They had just fallen almost to their deaths, he remembered that much, and for whatever reason he couldn't use his powers. He couldn't fly, and he remembered wrapping his arms around Fionna and...

 _Oh glob, where is she!?_ Marshall panicked _._ His eyes quickly scanned his surroundings, his mind going haywire. She had to be there somewhere.

The two of them had fallen into some kind of grotto. There was almost no light, save for a few colonies of mushrooms that glowed a lucid turquoise color, so it was impossible to see where they had entered from. Marshall could hear a running stream in the distance, but knew not to expect water. In the Night-O-Sphere, anything that looked potable was most likely cursed. Its effect? Usually death.

"Fionna," Marshall Lee called out, hearing the way her name bounced off the cave walls, ricocheting off a number of stalagmites and stalactites as it went. "Come on, you can't have travelled that far."

Marshall Lee traversed through the cave, wishing he could turn into a bat and use his echolocation. No such luck though. It was annoying: being in his realm and not being able to use his powers. He could still fight, he supposed, but not to his usual extent. Marshall groaned.

"Fionna!" he screamed in a final attempt. As if Grob answered, he stumbled across a clearing. Basked in a small trail of light that shined down from a hole in the ceiling, Marshall spotted Fionna's form. She looked to be sleeping, her chest rising and falling steadily with each breath, which was a relief for Marshall Lee. The vampire regarded her thoughtfully. The light cast itself onto the soft lineaments that were her features: her pert nose, squishy cheeks, and waves of blonde hair that tumbled down the sides of her face (her bunny hat must have loosened during her fall). Then his eyes rested on the pink of her lips; they were slightly parted, chapped too, and he could almost feel the soft butterfly breaths of air being released from them. Marshall's throat tightened. He scratched the back of his neck, not quite knowing what to do.

Finally, he decided that there was no use in waiting for her to get up, he might as well wake her. A mischievous grin spread to his cheeks. "Fionna," he called out with mirth, snaking up to her side and hovering ever so close to her face. He poised his mouth so that it hovered over her neck: fangs barred. _That ought to scare the living math out of her,_ Marshall Lee chuckled.

Only, Fionna wasn't waking up. He waited for a few minutes, trying to poke her in the sides and call out her name, but she remained stagnant. All he could hear were her steady breathes: _princess breaths_ , if such a thing existed in Aaa.

Marshall frowned. Her eyes never fluttered open, and he found himself almost wishing for them, for those pools of blue. _They match her old dress,_ he thought.

And then something horrible caught his eye.

Fionna's gash was gone.

.

.

.

Fionna was standing on the line between dream and reality.

There are rumors, here in Aaa, I'm not sure if you've heard, but they tell of metaphorical spider webs that tangle people up and are impossible to escape. Once you fall victim to these traps, you're never the same. They'll take a hold of your mind, soul, and _life_ , never letting go. That is, until it's too late.

Its owners are called the Mind Weavers.

In the beginning, they were an underground mafia located in the Badlands of Aaa. They were crafters of a certain narcotic that, once taken, left one heavily addicted. It altered your perception of things, made you see white when you should have seen black. It caused hallucinations that were more nightmarish than anything else, and in more extreme cases, altered the physical appearance of those who took it. The Mind Weavers made money off of people's need for the drug. So, a group of avengers decided to rid the land of it, rightfully so, and took down the group for good. At least, that's what they thought. While the narcotic was eliminated, the Mind Weavers still lived, and they were not happy about the way their business went down.

So they got creative.

They visited a group of wizards who offered them their services. In return for territory in the Badlands, the Wizards granted the Mind Weavers a special ability. It was called the Web of Lies. All they had to do was get someone caught in their "web" and the rest would follow. The group planned on using this ability on the ones who destroyed the narcotic. However, they made a grave mistake, for in the Land of Aaa there is one rule you must _always_ follow.

Never trust a wizard.

The Mind Weavers used their newfound ability and ended up getting caught in their own webs, prisoners to the darkest parts of their minds. It became too much, so much so that it is said their bodies burst into millions of pieces, but their minds remained.

The Mind Weavers fled to the darkest parts of the Night-O-Sphere, and there their minds exist today. They're hidden, and I am sorry to tell of the state of these minds: tormented, destroyed, vengeful, and full of a certain narcotic. Also, they're complete with a disembodied voice.

Remember kids, don't do drugs. Or better yet, don't trust wizards.

.

.

.

 _Crack!_

 _Sizzle!_

 _Tsss!_

Fionna felt like she was on fire. Her body was _burning,_ flames crawling their way up the expanse of her body from her toes to her head, and missing nothing in between. It hurt, so much so that it caused her to cry out on her sleep, caused her to clutch her fingers hard into the ground and not stop. She woke with a start.

And in her vision she saw nothing but fire: violent, angry, glowing pits of fire.

 _What is going on?_ Fionna thought. Sweat poured down the sides of her face, and smoke was filling her lungs fast. She coughed, her eyes watering. "Marshall!?" she called out, almost desperately. Where was he!? They needed to get out of here, wherever 'here' was.

But she couldn't see Marshall Lee; she couldn't see anything but towering flames that growled and fought around her. They were _suffocating_ her. Fionna's mind grew dizzy.

 _Beware of the flame,_ a voice in her head suddenly spoke, soft and siren-like.

"Wh-what?" Fionna stuttered.

 _Don't let it catch you,_ it warned again. It didn't sound friendly, nor helpful. In fact, it was taunting her, it's voice filled with mirth. It lilted like the chime of a bell. _It's getting closer!_

"Stop it!" Fionna began to flip out. The flames suddenly took the form of a giant wave, and Fionna was hit with the sudden realization that what she was seeing was actually an ocean - an ocean of flame.

Fionna screamed.

She screamed like she had never screamed before, fear pooling its way into her stomach and leaving her petrified. She was reminded of the crashing of waves, a big expanse of water that was endless, that hid the unknown under its folds, and kissed the shore with promises of danger. She felt oppression manifest around her, pushing her body and pinning her to the ground. This was something she could never be brave around: her greatest fear.

 _And it terrified her._

Tears streamed down her face, the

flames growing larger. _I'm going to burn to death,_ Fionna thought. _And then I'm going to drown._ Hysteria was rearing its ugly head.

" _Please_ ," Fionna cried, "make it stop!"

 _Now, why would we want to do that?_ The voice began to laugh. _This is so much more fun!_

Fionna crumbled to the ground, moaning in agony. She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking back and forth and trying not to suffocate. "Where am I!? Who are you? _Why are you doing this!?"_ Fionna began hyperventilating. "I was with Marshall, we were-"

 _Screw that little punk!_ The honey-like voice was now ice. _You're in our realm now, human!_

The word realm flitted across her mind like a warning signal. No, it wasn't a warning - it was a _reminder!_ Fionna's breath caught in her throat, and she whipped he head toward the ocean of flame. For a second, she could have sworn it wavered. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to regain her cool. "Where's Marshall Lee?" she asked.

 _We killed him!_

The flames began to glitch: a lie.

Fionna licked her lips nervously. "No, you didn't." She began to lift herself up, and with a wobbly step moved forward. "And we are still in the Night-O-Sphere." The illusion began to melt. "And in this realm, flames don't hurt you."

Fionna walked straight into the fire and didn't look back.

.

.

.

Fionna saw darkness. Despite the loss of her eyesight, she knew she was in a room, mainly because she could hear the sound of a clinking of glass, the scooting of a chair - voices chiming in conversation.

 _Are you ready?_

The voice that spoke was different from the last. It was calmer, and certainly more dignified.

Fionna was lost, but not scared; not this time. "Yes," she answered, straightening her back and shoulders and tilting her chin defiantly toward the sound of the voice.

Lights flashed. The room was illuminated in color: a deep reddish hue cast itself onto the walls, giving the place a romantic ambiance. Circular tables with white cloth lined themselves around the room, a candle placed on the center of each one, and although there were no people sitting at them, Fionna could hear endless conversation. There was a stage hidden in the far corner of the room, which hosted a phantom singer who appeared to be accompanied by a piano. Although nobody was sat at the instrument, the keys would push themselves down on their own.

 _Please, step this way._

There was a flash of light, and Fionna's eyes trailed toward the back of the room where a bar sat. It was illuminated, and on its counter were two drinks.

Fionna took a deep breath. "Alright then." Her legs began moving on their own. Fionna looked down and saw that she was wearing a new dress. It was pitch black, _beautiful_ really, and hugged her body as if personally tailored to fit every one of her measurements. It ended above her kneecaps and flared out in a puffy skirt, the top strapless with an open back. She was barefoot. Fionna trailed her hand up to her head and was relieved to find her bunny hat safe and sound. As long as that was unchanged, she could do this.

The adventuress took a seat at the bar, peering curiously at the drinks in front of her. One was a deep red color, the other blue.

 _Let's play a game,_ the voice spoke. Suddenly the music gave way, the sea of conversation dying down until only silence was left in their wake. The voice waited expectantly.

"A game?" Fionna questioned. "Sounds fun, but first would you be so kind as to tell me where my friend is?" She smoothed down her skirt. "Then we can play as long as you'd like."

There was a slow chuckle. _Fair enough, Fionna the human._

A light flashed toward the ceiling and Fionna gasped. There, hovering above the ground in a large metal cage sat Marshall Lee.

"Marshall!" Fionna called out, unconsciously jumping out from her seat. "What is going on!?" She twirled back around to face the voice. "Why is he up there?" Her voice turned to steel.

 _If you win the game...we will let him go. However, if you lose…_

"What!?" she demanded.

 _You'll find out._

 _._

 _._

 _._

Marshall Lee couldn't believe it. The gash on Fionna's chest was gone. There was no way that that could have happened overnight, especially after all of the stress she had put on it. If anything, it should have reopened long ago.

The vampire paced around the cave. Nothing was adding up. For the first thing, he couldn't use his powers, and for the next, something strange was happening with Fionna. It was almost as if all of this was a big…Marshall Lee stopped dead in his tracks.

This was an illusion.

"No," he said aloud, " _no-no-no-no!"_ There was only one explanation for this. "MIND WEAVERS!" he yelled, out into the recesses of the cave. "Show yourself!" There was silence, before ever so softly a voice emerged from the shadows.

 _So you've found us out,_ it spoke, _we expected nothing less from the son of Hana._

Marshall hissed. "You know the agreement." His eyes turned a terrible red color; they looked deranged, lethal, and _blood-thirsty_. "Long ago you promised to stay away from the creatures in this sphere, and in return The Abadeers have long provided you with suitable living space, sustenance, and _freedom._ Are you going back on your word?" Marshall did not ask for an answer, he demanded it, with clear conviction of a ruler. He was aggressive, direct, and did not allow leeway for silly games.

Games the Mind Weavers knew well.

 _That treaty,_ they said, voices like an icy tundra, like cracked glass and broken promises, _was valid when your mother was in power. She claims she has given up her throne to you, therefore the deal is off._ The voices were laced with malice. _We know you, Marshall. We don't believe in your rule. Hana is still in charge even if you wear the crown. That's always how it's been._

Marshall growled. "You know _nothing_!"

 _Why do you hurt us so?_ The voices took a different tune: they were laced with anguish and distress. _We are so lonely. Nobody comes here, been that way for a while, and now we have such a lovely girl visit us, and you want to take her away._

Marshall's eyes darted toward Fionna. "Stay away from her."

 _Lonely. Lonely-lonely-lonely-lonely! Let us play with her!_ It screeched.

Marshall shivered. They were getting out of hand.

 _Have you corrupted her yet? Has her heart succumbed to the darkness of this realm?_

"She isn't like us," Marshall spat. "She's good. As much as it sickens me, I have to say it's nice for a change of pace."

 _Good?_ The voice was now contemplative. _She will not pass the test._

"I wouldn't underestimate her."

 _We can see into your mind you know. Luckily your Abadeer blood prevents us from seeing too deep, but on the surface you're an open book._ Marshall could almost see the voices smile. Cracked teeth. Bloodied gums. Silver tongues. _You care for her._

Laughter.

 _You will be released, vampire._

Marshall awoke with a dizzy mind, and the imprint of hands wrapped around his neck.

He was back in the Night-O-Sphere.

.

.

.

 _Tonight,_ the voice instructed, _you and Marshall Lee will each be given one of these glasses_.

The cage keeping Marshall Lee had been lowered to the ground. He now faced Fionna, peering blankly at her with his dim red eyes. They blinked slowly. Fionna reached toward him. "Marshall?" she breathed. "Hey, what's going on here?"

 _He can't hear you._

Fionna whipped around, suddenly angry. She didn't like this place, the way it rendered her actions so mercurial. "What do you mean!?"

 _We've put a magical barrier around you. In other words, you're on mute._ It laughed. Fionna's hands tightened into fists at the sound. She growled under her breath, and went back to her seat, perusing the drinks carefully.

"Blue and red, huh?" Her finger slowly trailed along the bar top. "What's the difference? Is one blue razzberry?"

 _Not quite._

The drinks were bubbling. Fionna found herself mesmerized by their contents. Such vibrant colors.

"Well, if there's no difference why don't I just pick this one?" Her hand reached for the blue.

 _Not so fast, human. Perhaps it would be beneficial to for you to hear the secrets these drinks hold, before you make your decision._

And suddenly, all Fionna could see were those Glob-awful drinks. The words blue and red flitted across her mind like an endless litany. They screamed _take me._ Fionna's head suddenly felt a thousand times heavier. What could those voices possibly mean?

 _You are to pick one; the other will be handed to Marshall Lee. If you refuse to play this game, I'm afraid your friend will pay terrible consequences._

Fionna tore her gaze away from the drinks, only to find out that Marshall's cage had been moved. He was now up fairly high, and below him, Fionna saw a platform begin to open. Instead of ground underneath the vampire's feet, there were now a hundred spikes sharpened to a point, the tips lined with some kind of green goop that Fionna knew was poison. If she were to refuse, Marshall Lee would be impaled. The image of his body skewed against one of the spikes - his eyes widened and mouth opened in a silent scream, the oozing trail of blood that would follow - made her sick. She squeezed her eyes shut.

It would be so easy to let it happen though.

After all, Marshall Lee dying like that meant escape. If he were gone, she would have no problems returning to the surface. Sure, it would be hard to find someone who knew how to travel to and from their two realms like he, but if she were no longer tied to the vampire than all off this - _this_ _constant_ _struggle between what is right or wrong -_ could be over.

But how could she live with herself if she knew she was the cause of someone's death?

 _Neutrality_ , Fionna thought, was not something evil. No one in all of Aaa was perfect. Everyone had their flaws, and Marshall Lee, for all of the evil he claimed was surging through his veins, there were also aspects of good that Fionna could never ignore. She _saw_ it; she could _feel_ it.

It was living and breathing inside of him: this tiny heartbeat of _possible good_ that bore unparalleled strength within it. It pulsed red with raw emotion. It was small, but there, and as long as it was present within the vampire, Fionna would never pass it by. If the things Fred told her were correct, if Marshall had really done everything in his power to save those people long ago, then who was Fionna to say he was incapable of doing something like that again? If she could draw that same heroic feeling out of him, she could _save him._

She wanted to save him.

Fionna opened her eyes again, began to stare straight ahead of her where she knew the voice was hiding. She would not let it phase her. "Okay, let's play." Fionna imagined it smiling.

 _Sitting before you,_ the voice began, _are two drinks. One of them contains poison, the other does no_ t...so, which one will you take?

When she first came to the Night-O-Sphere, that sentence might have shocked Fionna. Now it simply emboldened her.

She swallowed hard. "In other words, what you mean is only one of us is going to make it out alive?"

Silence.

"I'll take that as a yes."

And so, because Fionna was a hero, because she was _good_ and _pure_ and believed too much in people, so much so that it could be the death of her, Fionna took both of the glasses.

She poured one of them into the other and watched as the colors swirled and flowed together, until nothing was left but purple.

And then, she drank.

.

.

.

You will be released, human. Congratulations on passing the test.

 _._

 _._

 _._

Fionna felt feverish. It wasn't like before, when she had awakened to that wall of flame, it was different, more sickly. It was hard for her to think clearly. Not only that, but her eyesight was hazy, only allowing her to see blurs of color that danced and leaped across her vision. The brightness of everything hurt, so she closed her eyes.

"Where am I now?" she asked, her voice scratching the inside of her throat. She coughed. She couldn't hear herself. Come to think of it, she couldn't hear anything. As if she were underwater, every sound and every voice was muffled and distorted. Was...was she hearing music? Singing? Whatever it was, Fionna couldn't tell. She sighed. She didn't have the energy to debate it, plus all of the sensory details around her were giving her a headache. And why the heck was she feeling so Globdamn hot!?

 _This is the poison's work,_ Fionna thought to herself. What else could make her so weak?

"Am I dead?" she wondered.

Then, she felt something: a hand? It laced between her fingers, squeezing hard. Without thinking she squeezed back. For some reason the hand, at least that's what she thought it was, was cold. Usually the touch of another was warm, she knew that from Cake...but then again Cake had fur. Fionna wrinkled her forehead in confusion.

All of a sudden the feeling of another hand broke her from her thoughts; it trailed softly against her face, cupping the apple of her cheek before moving upwards to push away a stray strand of hair. It was so gentle, so caring. Fionna felt her cheeks heat up. Her heart was beating out of her chest.

She squeezed her eyes tighter, curling in on herself and trying to breathe. _No,_ she thought, _why am I feeling like this?_ The touch was so intimate, demanding a kind of trust that Fionna wasn't used to giving. She didn't like it, didn't like the way it made her feel so vulnerable. A whimper escaped from her lips, and she blamed it on the fever.

"H-hey.." she protested. The hand stopped. There was a muffle of sound that followed, but she couldn't hear it. Fionna wanted to scream in frustration.

And then, something strange happened. The hand took her own in its grasp, soft and patient, and laid it palm up. Then, it began to trace something: a word. Fionna squeezed her eyes tighter, trying to concentrate on nothing but the movements traced against her skin. The hand did this _again_ and _again,_ until Fionna gasped. She opened her eyes, her back bolting upright and her hand burning. As if the bubble around her suddenly popped, sound and color and everything returned back to normal.

"Gumball?" she whispered, lost and full of hope.

But it wasn't Gumball who stared at her with worry and concern etched deep onto his features, it was Marshall Lee. Fionna's heart dropped. The vampire tilted his head at her, as if trying to see if she was really and truly there. Then, a grin broke across his face. "Fionna," he announced, "you woke up! Good thing too, or I might have tried awakening you with a kiss." He winked, trailing a hand through his black tresses.

Fionna didn't have the energy to slug him. Marshall's attitude quickly changed, his smile dropping, and his eyes sharper. He spoke, more to himself than to her, "Thank Grod you're alright." Fionna was sure she must still be dreaming, because the vampire did something unthinkable: he pulled her into his arms. "I knew you could do it." He placed his head on the top of her head, and Fionna gave a squeak of surprise. "You escaped from their mind games. I'm just sorry I couldn't have helped you." Fionna couldn't breathe. Her cheeks were on fire, and if she didn't pull away she was going to _burn._ But for whatever reason, she couldn't push herself to escape. "I knew you were special," he continued, "and when I was released and found your body in such pain and agony, I wanted to _kill them._

"But this is the Night-O-Sphere and even though I'm king, there are still rules of this realm I can't break. No matter how much I would like to. But you? You're a heroine, Fionna, and I knew that no matter what tricks they played on you, you would be able to overcome them."

"Marshall," Fionna whispered. And then, Fionna was sobbing, deep cries racking her body, and finally, _finally_ , all of the hardships she had faced since stepping foot in this realm had caught up to her, ready to be released in one catharsis of confession. "I was scared!" she admitted, burying her face in his chest. "There was t-this ocean, and I - _I couldn't -_ and they had you and threatened to p-p-poison, and I-" Marshall shut her up by pulling her closer.

"It doesn't matter."

"I didn't want you to die. I don't know why, because I thought you were evil, but you're not. I - I don't know why you've taken me here, or why you think that I sh-should be your knight, but none of that matters anymore! Marshall," she looked him straight in the eyes, blue and red clashing together as if to make purple, "I want to save you."

Marshall's eyes widened.

She was from a different world, Marshall thought, looking at this girl who had promised something so _intimate_ , so different from the usual deals made in this realm. What was even more shocking was the fact that she had promised it to him. Marshall couldn't fathom such a thing until now. _Damn it all, I'm blushing,_ Marshall thought.

The vampire gave her a sheepish smile, before reaching up to wipe the tears off of her face. Then, he checked her forehead. "You're burning up. Must be the result of your wound. It's still not healed. I was going to put some of my medicine on you myself, but considering your wound's position, I think you might have slaughtered me."

"Good choice Marshall."

He reached in his pocket for the jar, which she took from him without hesitation. After that, he turned away from her, allowing her privacy to tend to her gash.

"I'm sorry...for taking you away from your realm," Marshall admitted. "You may not understand it, but I had no choice. One day, I hope you'll forgive me."

Fionna didn't want to think of that now. "Can I ask you something?" she inquired, brushing off his previous remark.

"Go ahead."

"Where did you learn that hand thing?" She was referring to the word he had traced against her palm.

"Oh, that." Marshall chuckled. "An old friend taught it to me."

Fionna stared at her palm in wonder; the word trust stared back at her.

.

.

.

* * *

 **(A/N): Hello everyone! I hope you all have been having a lovely week. Finally found some time to post a new chapter! This one may have been a little confusing, but I hope you understood the importance of it. Thank you all so much for reading!**

 **Shout out to An Amber Pen for reviewing last chapter. When I see such nice messages it makes my day. Seriously, as an author it means the world.**

 **Thanks everyone who has favored or followed as well!**

 **See you next time!**


	9. Chosen

Ah, so you made it after all.

I almost thought we were going to have to tell the story without you. What a shame that would have been!

You don't look too worried. Not sure if I should be offended.

 _Oh,_ never mind that. What's important is that you are able to enjoy this story. As long as that's true, my confidence as a storyteller shall never waver!

W-why do you look so unsure!?

I'll have you know that my mother is very proud of me, and that's all that matters.

So, shall we carry on?

.

.

.

Fionna was sick, and she had been like that for a week.

 _Okay,_ Marshall relented, it hadn't really been that long, but Fionna was still bedridden, and she'd been that way for a while.

It all started after the incident with the Mind Weavers. Fionna's body had collapsed just as they were making ground, falling to the dirt floor in a very unheroic manner, and Marshall was forced to make camp. It was so sudden too, the way this illness emerged out of nowhere to engulf her form. She was hot to the touch but kept shivering as if she were made of ice, and no matter how hard she tried her stomach would only let her gulp down bits of mushed up apples and water. She didn't talk much either, muttering in her sleep meaningless words strung together in her delirium. It was hard to watch.

But what else could he do? He was no doctor. The only comfort he could provide for her was in the form of his red-flannel shirt (which his mother always told him was not very kingly) that he draped around her like a blanket. He made a campfire too, hoping it could provide her with at least some warmth.

More than confused about the matter, Marshall was worried, because no one got sick in the Night-O-Sphere.

 _Ever._

It was thanks to their above-average immune systems. Blame it on the raging surplus of B and T cells (B meaning, a healthy diet of blood, and T meaning _too many mortal souls to suck on, so little time to waste)_ but demons didn't get sick _._ Maybe it was the fact that many demons in the realm were immortal, their vitality invincible. Sickness would slide off of them as if they were waterproof. Whatever the reasoning behind it, the fact was that Marshall Lee was clueless about this topic, and without the fundamental knowledge, Marshall had no idea how to help her.

So what else could he do? Currently, he was sat staring at Fionna in her state of unrest, watching as she muttered nonsense and rolled around in her sleep. She looked terrible. Her pale face was even paler than normal, and her lips were chapped beyond belief. Shakily, he felt her forehead, only to have his hand come back clammy and slick with her sweat. She was absolutely burning. Her face pinched in her sleep, and she rolled to her side, muttering something about cats and candy.

Marshall sighed in defeat. Fionna was out of it, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was his fault. After all, maybe her sickness had stemmed from her gash: the one he had given her. Thinking for a moment, Marshall thought better of it. No, they had been applying the medicine to her wound regularly, and even though it was far from closing, it was no longer blistering an angry red. It seemed to be healing, even. So, what else could it have been?

 _It's the fault of those glob-awful Mind Weavers,_ Marshall thought angrily, pulling absentmindedly on the string of his axe-base. The strain they put on her mind must have been huge, so much so that it made her fall ill. So much so that they were unable to leave their make-shift campsite for almost two days (fine okay he was being over dramatic before). It was annoying, mainly because Marshall needed to show her what he had seen. He needed to give her _evidence_ for why she had to trust him, and fast. Dropping ill was not a part the agenda.

So excuse him for saying that it had been a _week_ (because it probably would be, maybe longer if he didn't find a way to cure her) _,_ and excuse him for saying her head felt like absolute flame, but he was worried! While he already had a position of power as the Vampire King, he wasn't privy to the position of _Drama King_ either, and _glob-damn it!_ If he wanted to worry he would! Just, _shut up!_

Marshall began to pout.

He looked at Fionna's sleeping form with a scowl. Stupid human, getting sick at the worst possible time. Her body clearly wasn't adjusted to conditions in his realm, and she just had to push herself so hard, didn't she? She was hopeless.

Feeling especially angry, Marshall decided to shake her awake. Gently of course (because sick or not she was capable of gut-busting him into oblivion). Besides, they could no longer afford to wait around. They were losing valuable time.

Marshall's hands snaked themselves over Fionna' shoulders, rocking lightly. Her eyes quickly fluttered open, blue pools of curiosity casting a tsunami over Marshall's form, and suddenly all of the anger he previously held seemed to wash away in an instant. Her calming aura had to be some form of black magic. How else could it cause his frustration to fade away so easily? It took him a moment to swallow down his unease. "Come on," he said, rubbing the back of his head, "we need to cover more ground. Don't worry about moving though, I'll help you; you can climb on my back."

She blinked owlishly at him. Marshall stared back, his eyes sweeping over her form. Her bunny hat was askew, and he couldn't help but trace the waves of her blonde hair escaping in curls underneath the white fabric. Freckles bloomed across her cheeks. _Glob,_ he thought.

The vampire coughed for no real reason. "Well, are you coming? Or do you need me to pick you up?" he asked, gruffly. He forced his head away from her with a scowl.

She spoke in a scratchy voice,"M-Marshall? How long was I-"

"Sleeping? A long time kiddo. Don't strain your voice though, just hop on. Wrap my shirt around you. I know you're cold."

Wordlessly Fionna did as he said. Pulling her arms through the sleeves proved to take a lot more energy than she thought, and Marshall watched as perspiration accumulated across her forehead. He sighed. This sickness must have been bad, because it managed to tear down one of Aaa's greatest warriors. Worry settled deep in Marshall's bones. "Are you ready?" he inquired. She nodded, shakily stepping toward him.

"Marshall, I can walk if you want. I'd hate to make you carry me."

"Oh come off of it, Fionna. I don't mind. Besides, you need to conserve what little energy you have."

She huffed, her cheeks turning rosy. Marshall didn't know if it was from frustration or the sickness. "Fine, but only because I have no choice."

Fionna knew that a good warrior understood their strengths and weaknesses; a good warrior knew when it was time to call it quits. And Fionna, despite her obtuse personality, knew that it was smarter for her to focus on her health rather than her image, so she decided to take Marshall up on his offer.

She slowly closed in on his back, tentatively reaching out for his shoulders. Her hands clasped around them, her legs lifting themselves until her thighs rested snugly on either side of his torso. Marshall looped his arms around her calves. "One, two, three," he announced, heaving her body up and beginning to walk. Even though Fionna had rippling muscles, she was surprisingly light. He guessed that the whole piggyback thing wasn't as bad as he thought. Perhaps the only uncomfortable part of the arrangement was the heat radiating from her body.

She was actually _burning_.

"Glob _,_ Fionna!" Marshall complained.

"You're like a heater." He readjusted her, inadvertently pulling her closer. The vampire groaned.

Fionna buried her head in his back, her words muffled, "Not my fault."

"You know, I'd like to think the heat is from your cheeks. Most girls would be embarrassed to be in a position like this: we look like a couple."

"I'm too tired to slug you."

Marshall grinned cheekily. "I guess this is my lucky day then." He felt her adjust her arms, which were clasped around the base of his neck. Her breathing became slow, but even, and Marshall could feel her calming heartbeat through the fabric of his shirt. She must have fallen asleep. "Aaaand, she's out," he whispered. Marshall trudged along, feeling something tug at his chest.

There was a blooming kind of heat curling throughout his body, settling in the spaces between his bones and rendering his frozen exterior toasty. There was something special about this sudden feeling. It made him want to sing - made him want to play stupid songs on his axe-base for hours on end as if he were sixteen all over again.

 _It's just body heat stupid,_ he thought, and then, _it has nothing to do with the pretty girl on your back. It has nothing to do with this quirky, kick-ass human._

Honestly.

He felt her stir, her princess breaths hitting the back of his neck, chills running down his skin in their wake. Marshall groaned.

He was such a liar.

.

.

.

There wasn't any greenery in the Night-O-Sphere.

Call it bleak, or dim, or even lifeless, it didn't matter to the Abadeers. This realm was their home, and they couldn't help the fact that it was void of _that particular color._ Even if it was the only color uncharted in the sphere. Lack of natural sunlight and bad growing conditions tended to do that to a place. But Marshall missed Aaa for that very reason: there wasn't the color green here. There weren't big grassy fields to run around in (for no other reason than to just _run),_ there weren't great puffs of fluffy foliage and trees that bore fruit and flowers and moss that hugged its bark like a lover - there wasn't that sense of vitality.

From a primal point of view, the color held importance: it signified a lack of drought, plenty of food and resources, and good weather. There was balance in this color that represented nature. With its absence, there was room for worry or unease. It reminded people of remnants of a world washed away in snow, one that glazed over in darkness and burned slowly with destruction steaming towards the heavens.

But Marshall didn't quite have a grasp on this information, or rather _he didn't know_. Not that one could blame him. He was just one person. Still, maybe he should have noticed the tug in his gut. Should have realized that leaving Aaa and surrendering to the Night-O-Sphere was a bad call. In a realm that fed off of uncertainty and anxiousness, you would think he'd of picked up on it.

No, but Hana did. Marshall's mother _always_ knew these things. It was why she was running the show - why her fingers played a tune to summon the dead and dread and everything saturnine and dark. It was why, _even now,_ she was plotting. Marshall knew it. He also knew she was waiting for him.

He would be ready for her.

.

.

.

Marshall Lee trudged through the Night-O-Sphere, Fionna snoring peacefully on his back. The sky above them was awash in maroon: a deep lulling color that marked the realm's transition from evening to night. Dark clouds began to roll in, almost as if they wished to swallow the sky whole, and they blotched in patches against the red red pool above. Marshall looked up to see great bursts of astral bodies that flashed across the horizon in the place of stars and gusts of wind that blew and howled and sliced through the still air. It was beautiful in a haunting, end-of-the-world kind of way.

He made his way to a field.

Now, like I said before, the Night-O-Sphere had no green. This field was grey. In the wake of the red sky above, it looked almost purple, blowing every which way that the wind took it and curling around Marshall's frame. The vampire slowly began to lower himself to a squat.

Fionna stirred. "Marshall?" she murmured against his back, slowly focusing her eyes and surveying her surroundings. Her hands wrapped distractedly around his neck. Marshall felt his heart pick up. Vampires died the sunlight, and Fionna was the sun incarnate. He felt as if he needed to carry around an umbrella when she was near.

"Sorry to wake you, Fionna, but I'm afraid it's time," Marshall apologized. "I told you I had something to show you after all." He gently set her down against the grassy ground. The blades went up to her nose when she sat.

She sneezed.

"Ugh, I hate being sick. What do you want to show me exactly anyway?" she asked through her stuffy nose.

"You're so impatient."

"You're so...dumb," she countered, albeit lamely. Marshall stared at her for a good two minutes, before he ruffled her hair in retaliation. "H-hey!"

"Calm down bunny, I'm trying to find something." Indeed he was. His hands groped their way along the grass floor below them, sinking into old dirt untouched by the citizens in this realm, and subjected to only Mother Nature's hands.

Or so, one would think.

Because after a while, Marshall's hand was met with metal: he struck a cold, rusty trapdoor.

Marshall turned toward Fionna excitedly, his red eyes glowing. "Finally," he cheered. His smile was toothy - er, _fangy._ "When I first came here, I thought that this area was one of the few untouched regions of this kingdom. It looked beautiful, and the field was the closest thing to the land of Aaa's terrain that I could find."

Everything else was dead or cursed and to see this slice of land so _untainted_ , it was the first bit of solace Marshall had had in years. But then he found the door, and he realized that the field wasn't as untouched as he had thought.

Fionna came to stand next to his frame, peering over his shoulder at the metal. "Where does it lead to?" she asked quickly, curiosity bleeding through her words. Marshall met her eyes, and a flash of _something_ crackled between them.

 _(Trust me. I can show you things you've never dreamed of. I can lead you to a world unexplored by the likes of our kind. Let me guide you. Let me be your senses)._

"Do you want to find out?"

 _(More than anything. I'd travel the moon and back just for a glimpse of your world. I want to see things. I want to live)._

"Yes."

Marshall stifled a laugh at her sick-induced voice. The wind began to pick up, and the vampire felt a sudden press for time. He decided to challenge her. "Then go down it." The wind blew powerfully, pushing their frames toward the metal door.

"...Have you been down there?" she asked. Excitement rippled through her frame, and Marshall was almost convinced that adventuring was the best remedy for her - was convinced he could shy any medical practice for just this bit of fun.

"Yes," he breathed, red tongue sliding across his teeth, "I have." Her trust for him was no longer in question - she had made that clear after the Mind Weavers - but Marshall knew even if she didn't trust him, she would go down that door anyway. Fionna's weakness was her love for danger.

She smiled, shakily stepping to where Marshall stood.

And then, she opened the door, and they both jumped down.

.

.

.

The room was warm.

It was most likely, Fionna deducted, the fact that underneath the Night-O-Sphere's soil was literal fire (Fred most certainly hadn't been lying). If that was the case, then the metal room they stood in was an actual oven. Fionna was sweating buckets, and she was grateful for the hardy soles of her shoes (if it hadnt been for them her feet would of melted off).

"Marshall," she coughed, eyes blurring together from the waves of heat. "What is this place?" She barely made out the shape of his form as he walked over to her. He held out his hand. She took it, but felt something strange in his palm. Looking down, she found that he had given her some kind of berry. "What is this?"

"Eat it," he answered. His red eyes were preoccupied with searching the room. For what? Fionna hadn't a clue. She busied herself with the fruit instead. It was a strange thing: coated in a swirled blue and purple color, it was the size of a blackberry, and looked spiky. She shrugged and popped it in the back of her throat.

And suddenly the heat disappeared. Fionna looked down to see her body coated in blue. _What the-_

"Your body is heat resistant now," Marshall said, as if reading her thoughts. "Hopefully this helps with your fever as well."

"Where do you even find these things?"

"I have connections."

Fionna's eyes swept over the room. It was pretty bare, almost like an underground bunker, and was dimly lit by the glow of a few sketchy-looking candles in each of the four corners. If he brought her down here to summon some mythical beast, she was going to regret trusting him.

Then her eyes caught something unusual: there, hidden in the pattern of the floor was an image - an image of a skull. Fionna's heart thumped widely against her chest. There was a green twinkle of light emitting from its forehead, and Fionna stood mesmerized by its glow.

"Fionna," Marshall spoke, breaking the trance, "you have to step on it."

"I - _what_?" Fionna spluttered. Despite every warning sign that pointed toward that action, she _really_ wanted to do it. She tried her best to suppress a grin; it was just too exciting! "Are you kidding?" she laughed. Fionna was giddy. She was drunk off of her sickness and off of the sheer adrenaline that came with the package of exploration. She wanted to see the unimaginable.

Marshall floated a little in the air, almost lying on his back. His hands rested behind his head as he assumed a position of relaxation. "Go on," he pressed.

Fionna slowly made her way to the skull. Her black polished shoes (which were surprisingly easy to run in) hovered a mere centimeter from the skull. "Here I go." She sniffed loudly, clearing her sinensis, before _ever-so-carefully_ stomping on the image. Her breath hitched.

Nothing happened.

" _Marshall!_ " Fionna cried, offended that he would lie to her. "What the stuff?"

Marshall coughed, and pointed down to her foot. Confused, Fionna followed his fingers, only to find a small sliver of light protruding through her foot.

She had been covering the surprise.

Flushing, Fionna moved away from the light source, quickly shielding her eyes from the bright flash of light that followed. It engulfed her surroundings; made her blind and dizzy with its power. She reeled back, falling down on her butt in the process.

And then she saw it: the skull was actually a kind of projector, casting an image against the metal roof above them. She sat in awe.

A film was playing.

.

.

.

 _Long, long ago_. _..this realm began as a whisper._

 _Darkness manifests itself in vicious self hatred. It takes the thoughts that muddy your mind, that make you feel cold and empty and worthless: the ones which are teeming with distress and hate and endless wishes of end it all. These thoughts have to go somewhere, right?_

 _There's nowhere to go but down._

 _Once upon a time a voice whispered words of darkness, and these whispers grew heavier and plentiful. They stuck together like liquid black glue, collecting more and more cries until suddenly, what was once nothing became_ _ **something.**_

 _When the explosion hit the great world above, radiation seeped into the ground below. It bled into spaces of cracked dirt that crept along Aaa's soil and dripped into the nooks where these whispers of darkness lied._

 _Drip._

 _Drip._

 _Drip._

 _Life was born; the Night-O-Sphere opened its eyes for the first time._

 _You, listener, you poor misfortunate soul. There will be a time when this realm falls straight into the hands of another: someone cunning and quick, one who has lived through eons and flirted with death to the point of exhaustion - this person will know what the whispers taste like._

 _They will lead this realm into darkness, at least...a darkness darker than this._

 _You may fret._

 _You may frown._

 _But there is hope._

 _(Hope...what a funny word. What a lovely, wonderful idea so unaccustomed to this dark and dreary realm. Maybe you'll be relieved)._

 _A hero is coming._

The film showed a darkened figure standing against the Night-O-Sphere's solferino sky. They appeared to be laughing. Around them, there were flames everywhere, emerging from the cracked earth unhinged from the ground and splitting open as lightning struck it in two. Creatures of various sizes stumbled across the sphere's surface; they screeched in pain as hordes of insects devoured them alive. Acid rain filled the heavens with a yellow hue.

The figure's laugh grew louder. There was something pink and powerful glowing their hand. It looked to be an amulet of some sort.

The scene changed and suddenly, there was a new figure added to the picture. They were glowing and held tightly in their hands a sword.

 _A hero is coming._

The two figures met. There was a clash. And suddenly, everything gave way to bright and burning light.

Fionna looked at the film; her figure stared back at her, glowing with power.

.

.

.

 _She will be small, this hero. Do not doubt her power though: this is a warning I will only say once._

Fionna watched as her figure swept along the cracked earth. She was cut and bruised; she was battered and beat. She was not down for the count.

The overhead voice seemed to be addressing her.

 _The Night-O-Sphere will fall. You must stop the madness. You must rid the amulet from wrong hands. You must stop_ _ **her.**_

Suddenly, the original figure emerged into the picture: a blue-skinned demon of a lady smirked back at them. When she opened her mouth, white flame poured out of her throat. Fionna's heart leaped.

And what was the next image, you ask? Easy. Fionna saw Prince Gumball stepping toward the demon.

He handed her the amulet.

 _Stop the madness._

 _._

 _._

 _._

Fionna was silent.

It was hard to take everything in, hard to breath even. The images she saw were too vivid. Too _real._ In the end, Marshall was right: he needed her.

In the Night-O-Sphere's darkest hour - _he needed her._

Fionna slid against one of the metal room's walls, tucking her knees under her chin and staring off in thought. From her side, she felt Marshall Lee's presence. He slid against the wall beside her easily, not saying anything, giving her time to think. Fionna didn't know _what_ to think.

"So, in a nutshell," Fionna concluded, tilting her head so she could rest her eyes on his regal face, "this place is going to go bat-crazy, I'm going to have to fight this _demon lady,_ and...and.." She didn't want to say it. _Glob,_ she didn't want to say it.

"And?" Marshall pressed. His eyes were blazing. She swallowed hard.

"And the cause of all this madness is that stupid amulet, which I might add, Prince Gumball is going to give away."

"In a nutshell? Yes."

Silence.

"How long have you known?"

"A long time, Fionna."

"How long have you been trying to find me?"

It was hard to read the emotion on Marshall's face. She realized he was guarding himself. "Even longer," he said cryptically.

"Well then, why did you kidnap me? Why did you fight me? I would have gone with you if you just," Fionna sighed in frustration, " _asked!"_ She was getting herself worked up, which was certainly not good for her condition. She turned to him sharply. "Don't you think it would have been so much easier?"

"Would you have really believed me? _Honestly?_ " His red eyes flashed dangerously. The demon inside him threatened to spill over. "If I hadn't dragged you down here through force you would have never joined me! You'd never travel through this sphere, you'd never let me take you to this room, and you'd certainly never believe me when I told you Prince Pinky was the cause of this madness. I did what I did because I had no other choice."

"And fighting me was the answer!?"

" _You_ started it, trust me."

"Well, can you blame me? You're a-"

"A what?" Marshall interrupted. "A demon? A vampire?" He laughed bitterly. " _I know that._ How could anyone look at such a monster and think, _hey, this guy looks amiable - let's be friends!"_ Marshall scowled. "Ridiculous."

"I never said-"

"Well you implied it."

Fionna sighed. Angry tension filled the air in place of the growing silence. "I'm sorry," Fionna relented. "I'm just...on edge." She rubbed angrily at the tears filling her eyes. _She would not cry._ "In case you hadn't realized, my family back home is most likely worried about me. I miss Cake, okay? I'm in some strange place with someone I barely know, and...I'm sick." Fionna sniffled. "My chest hurts like heck, too."

She didn't _ask,_ to be brought down here; she didn't _ask_ to be some...chosen one. Marshall knew that, right?

The vampire sighed, anger subsiding from his face. "I'm sorry too." He hesitated, before his hand awkwardly reached up to the bottom of her face. He grabbed her chin and moved her head toward his direction. "For everything." He watched as her shoulders lost their tension, relaxing against his touch.

He was a demon. His teeth were sharp, his eyes bloodshot, and his skin ghostly. He could have slid her neck under his teeth and drained her essence in mere _seconds_ , especially in her current condition.

But he didn't.

Instead he was beside her, his touch gentle and undemanding. His black tresses fluttered against his pallid face, danced across his eyelashes and tickled his nose. His red eyes glowed a soft rosy color. And he smiled charmingly. He was an enigma - ready to ignite in a mere second but easily disarmed. His voice was deep and resonating - music etched into his very being, enough to lull her to sleep. He somehow cared for her.

And Fionna? Fionna wanted to drink his features up, wanted to stare at him forever as if he were a painting to be admired. She wanted to unravel what made him, _him._ She wanted...she wanted... _to be by his side._

The worst part about it all was she didn't know why.

"I don't understand you," she admitted, still perusing him thoughtfully. Her eyes flashed from his face, down to his neck, toward his torso and back up. She was just so...curious.

Marshall's eyes flicked toward her lips and back up to her eyes. "Fionna," he warned, his voice strained, "you're checking me out." His breath ghosted across her face.

Her cheeks flushed immediately. She reeled her head out of his grasp, livid. "I was not! You were the one who grabbed me!"

Marshall Lee chuckled. "There's the Fionna I know."

They were on good terms again, it seemed.

.

.

.

"By the way, Fionna...the woman you have to fight? She's my mother."

"W- _what!?"_

* * *

 **Thanks everyone for reading! Hope you didn't mind the wait. Shout out to the reviewers:** **An Amber Pen and Deathstarling556. Your words mean a lot :)**

 **Hope you all have a wonderful day!**


	10. Discoveries

Welcome back! I'm sure that you've been waiting with bated breaths for this next installment. Maybe you've spent countless nights tossing and turning in your sleep, only to wake up in cold sweats from wicked dreams of my tale, biting your nails down to their nubs and letting anticipation curl through your stomach. Maybe the lives of these characters have unraveled something within yourself you had never known existed - now you are here, searching for a bit of yourself between the white expanse of words.

Then again...maybe you just came here because you had nothing better to do.

Hmm…

I'm going to ignore that last thought and get straight to the story!

But first! A bit of advice. After all, it is rare that you have the opportunity to speak with someone as well versed in the likes of whimsical ponderings as I. Not to brag or anything, but I have a masters in dealing with blue moon situations and have even accompanied this with my minor: Dream deciphering and palm reading.

The latter has gone farther somehow…

But never mind that. There are more important things to discuss: thoughts that have been circling my mind and festering in the inner workings of my brain. Thoughts I must share, if not for the betterment of you, then for some peace of mind.

It's just, I remembered something my father told me long ago, when I was but a wee child: a piece of information forever imprinted into my memories.

He told me that one day...one day there would come a time when I am made bold to think no harm will come my way. I'd be living on a high - a space in between dream and reality where, because my life has been so grand and dandy for a long time, I forget what it's like to suffer. A moment where I begin to think that I'm invincible. The world can't hurt me.

And that's when it gets me: reality smacks me in the face.

You see, my father told me not to let my guard down. Because the world's not perfect, and there are moments when life, as beautiful and precious as it is, hurts you. Really, hurts you.

The prospect _scared me._ In fact, his plan backfired, because instead of taking his words in stride, or ignoring them, for it was not my first rodeo in dealing with his lectures, I became paranoid. _When would it hit me? How can I stop it? How bad will it hurt? What's the point in enjoying anything when it will only CRASH and BURN!?_

My mind was blackened.

But I've told you before. I have lived eons and met many people; I have seen the land breath and thrum - pulse underneath my fingertips and burn slowly. I have seen it reborn countless times, each more beautiful than the last and knew that I would be around for many years to come. Somehow, my mind was able to cope.

You see, here's what I now understand:

You can not dodge the onslaught of life - you must be willing to take it in head on. You should not be ignorant, for it is understood that life is hard and only gets harder from where you are standing, but you can never, _ever,_ let that stop you from living. Do not shrink into yourself. Do not fold under pressure. Breathe. Tomorrow the sun will rise and life will start anew.

Things, however difficult, get better. This I promise.

Now, let me see your palm.

Why are you backing away!?

I just want to see your life line! _Hey, quit squirming!_

.

.

.

Cake's padded feet made soft _pitter-patter_ sounds from within the darkened room. The castle was sleeping, banana guards retired to their chambers and gumdrop attendants snoring softly. Normally, Cake would have been fast asleep as well, perhaps not in the castle, but in Fionna and her tree fort instead. Not tonight though.

Tonight was different; tonight Cake was on a mission.

The walls of the castle were solid pieces of graham cracker, glazed over with buttercream frosting. To the untrained eye that's all they were: sweet unassuming foundation. Cake knew better though.

It was midnight. The floor she was on led to the kitchen. She was tempted to continue on in order to snag herself a little snack, maybe some milk, but thought better of it. Instead she faced the wall. Her paw pressed against it _,_ sliding over the left and then upward until she felt the finest dip.

 _Click._

There was a soft rumble and suddenly, the foundation broke through and a passageway revealed itself. Cake stood at its threshold and breathed in deeply before finally stepping forward.

This was the passageway leading to Prince Gumball's laboratory. It was private - meant for the Prince's eyes only. The only reason why Cake knew about the hidden passage was because he had entrusted the information to Fionna and her only, just in case anything bad happened. There were no cameras hidden within the room (Gumball didn't need any banana guards to see what experiments went on down there), so Cake didn't have to worry about being caught.

Not that she would care; she needed answers, darn it!

Cake traversed through the tunnel, her paw hugging the wall and reeling backward every time she thought she touched a spider web. Then again, it was probably just candy-floss-cotton-candy junk. Cake hissed at the contact.

After what seemed like an eternity, a narrow slip of light peeked through. Cake followed it, her eyes glowing with excitement (at the end of the day Cake was still an adventuress) _._ Her feline body squeezed through the opening of the graham cracker foundation until _finally_ she made it on the other side.

Cake was in Prince Gumball's lab.

The first thing Cake noticed was that it wasn't neat - odd for Prince Pristine himself. There were bubbling liquids that filled the brim of various tubes, flasks lined up in differing volumes, some of which were teetering on the edge of his work bench, and scraps of paper placed haphazardly around the floor. He had a large desk filled with schematics and scribbles, rulers and pencils spanned out across its wooden expanse. The floor was dirty - caked with science residue and _whatever the hell that wa_ s. Cake shuddered.

"Geez," she tutted in disapproval, "he needs a serious talk about cleaning up his workplace." Cake groaned. There was no way she was going to find what she was looking for in this clutter! The feline glared at a nearby computer. Her claws ached to take her anger out on something. She had to resist an urge to slice the screen.

 _Squeak squeak!_

Cake jumped, startled at the sudden intrusion of sound. Her head whipped around in every direction - _where had that come from?_

 _Squeak!_

The noise whatever creature was making seemed frightened. Cake frowned. Was she not alone in this room? She took a step backward and as she did she collided with something metal.

 _Squeaaaaak!_

Cake bolted upright. Looking down at what she hit (a metal cage), she found herself staring into the eyes of an animal. Not just any animal, but a candy corn mouse.

Luckily for the little guy, Cake wasn't hungry. Her paw even reached out to stroke its candy exterior.

"Hey little guy," the feline cooed, "think you could help me look for a little something something?" The creature twitched its nose, it's black eyes brimming with curiosity. "It's a sparkly pink gem. Can't miss it." Cake thought for a moment. "And you know...if you don't find it." She motioned to the sharps of her teeth, running her tongue over them languidly. Then, she chomped down.

The candy-corn mouse squeaked in fear.

"I'm kidding baby!" reassured Cake with a laugh. "I don't even like candy corn." Cake reached for the latch of the cage and unhinged it, stepping back to allow the mouse space to work. She mewled in satisfaction as it began. Whether it was fear or something else driving the little guy, it sure knew how to do its job. Prince Gumball must have trained it to organize files for him or something, because the creature knew the laboratory like the back of its paw. Cake watched attentively as the mouse jumped from counter to counter, side-stepping various flasks and solutions as it went. At one point, the mouse reached the edge of a broom stick which had been leaning against one of the many table tops scattered across the lab. The creature jumped on its handle and let it fall, landing on a very slick work bench in the process. It squeaked in approval.

"Well?" Cake pressed. "Did you find it?" The candy-corn mouse nodded. "But there's nothing there! Are you playing a trick on me?" The mouse fervishly shook its head. Cake was soon forced to eat her words when there was a sharp clicking sound emitting from underneath the mouse's foot. A shadow loomed overhead and Cake's vision slowly drifted upward, until she was face to face with a large wooden box beginning to lower itself down. Cake whistled in approval. "This must be it." The feline moved out of the way to let the box continue its descent.

 _Squeak!_

Cake looked over to see the mouse staring right at her as if expecting something. She sighed, " _Oh_ alright." Cake held out her paw and let the mouse settle against her fur. She proceeded to drop the little guy back in its cage, but not before offering it a small gumdrop as a thank you. "You worked very hard."

The box finally reached its destination. It was deposited on one of Gumball's workbenches, smack-dab in the middle. Cake's eyes grew sparkly at the sight. With a quick look around to make sure the coast was clear, Cake reached out and undid the box's lid. As she did, bright pink light erupted out of the container. Sparkles of power filtered into the air.

This was it. The amulet. The previous artifact that had the ability to transform the Land of Ooo - the same one that the dastardly King Marshall wanted. _Oh,_ how Cake hated him. Anger bubbled through her veins, made her fur stand on edge and a hiss catch itself within her throat. She wanted to murder him in cold blood; rip the smirk she just _knew_ he wore right off of his ugly vampire face.

She wanted revenge for taking away her sister. And she would get it too.

So Cake's paw reached for the amulet, curiosity of adventure coursing through her, before - _well, she should have guessed it -_ Prince Gumball entered the room. Cake yelped. Luckily for her, he hadn't spotted her yet, so being the resourceful kitty she was, Cake scrambled into one of the Prince's supply drawers, shrinking herself as she went.

"Huh," came the sound of Prince Gumball's voice, "I could have sworn I heard something."

Cake would have laughed if she wasn't so scared. Even though they were close, Cake knew that he would be very unhappy if he found her fiddling about in his laboratory, especially when he had entrusted her with its whereabouts.

The pink light of the amulet seemed to seep into the cracks of her hiding place, and Cake grew even more distressed. She may have been hidden, but there was no ignoring the fact that the amulet had been moved. He would see. He would begin to suspect someone.

He might even think it was her.

She shrunk down further in her hiding place, guilt coursing through her. "Oh _glob,"_ Cake whispered. Then, her eyes caught sight of something. She was sitting next to a stack of paper - fine, expensive stationary that had looped letters staining the material. Cake didn't bother reading them, but she spared a quick glance at the signature at the bottom of the paper.

 _Marshall Lee._

Cake's blood ran cold. Prince Gumball was conversing with the vampire? The same one who had kidnapped Fionna!? She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't! The feline tore through the letters to find the answer, her eyes scanning over the many signatures piled in that grob-awful drawer. _It can't be true,_ Cake thought frantically. _It just can't!_

But of course, there were hundreds of these letters, and all of them were signed by the demon himself:

 _Sincerely, The Vampire King._

 _Signed, Marshall Lee._

 _Marshall._

 _Till next time, Marshall Lee._

 _See ya, Pinky! -Marshall_

And, worst of all…

 _Love, Marshall._

These were not threat letters, or clever devices to blackmail her prince - _No no no,_ these were cordial letters to a friend; these were private words exchanged between close partners.

Prince Gumball knew Marshall Lee personally... _very_ personally. The thought alone made Cake sick to her stomach. How could Prince Gumball be friends with such a creature!? How could he be amiable with a demon? A snarl sat upon Cake's lips. This was betrayal beyond belief. This was...stabbing her in the back with the force of a knife storm.

Another thought made Cake want to hide away in a hole and never come back: Prince Gumball _knew_ about Fionna's capturing. He had to.

That meant, the letter Marshall Lee sent them about impending war was fake.

"What's this?" Prince Gumball spoke again, and Cake knew that what he was observing was the amulet. It's pink light was still glowing through the cracks of the drawer. It was illuminating the _Grob_ awful letters right before her eyes.

Cake lost it. "Gumball!" she hissed, growing large enough that her body broke straight through the little wooden drawer. Splinters of wood went everywhere. The prince was surprised to say the least, letting out a gasp and falling backwards into his royal heinie. Cake's fur stood on edge. "What in Abraham Lincoln's name are you doing!?"

Gumball spluttered, "C-cake?" He quickly jumped to his feet, dusting off his attire. "I should be asking you the same thing. Why are you in my lab?" An angry line flitted itself between his brows. "We're you the one who moved the amulet?"

"Drop the act, Gumball. I oughta strangle you right here and now." Cake barred her teeth. Her claws unhinged themselves from her paws. "Why the hell are you writing letters to that vampire?" She flung the papers at him and watched as the pink color drained from his face. He looked at them harrowingly as they fell to the ground. Confusion, realization, hurt, and anguish seemed to flicker across Gumball's features in great bursts. At last he settled on a look of immense pain.

"Cake," he spoke, his voice cracking. " _Please."_

She would not falter. For her sister's sake, Cake would not break. "You knew he took Fionna right from the beginning," she accused. "You let it happen. Worst of all, you didn't tell me!"

"You don't understand-"

"Like hell I don't!" Cake couldn't help it. All of the rage she felt seemed to be piling up. She was a shaken bottle ready to explode - and explode she did. Fast as lightning and without thinking, Cake's paw came to swipe against Prince Gumball's pink face, causing it to go red with the impact and darken by the bleeding of maple syrup that spewed from the swipe. She clawed him...she actually _clawed_ him.

Prince Gumball reeled back, and his hand clutched the laceration.

" _You knew,"_ Cake hissed, "all along you knew where she was. She's my sister, you monster!"

"Cake, I never meant to hurt her!"

"Why are you sending him letters!?"

"I _can't_ tell you that!"

Cake made a move to swipe at him again, but there was a loud and terrible sound that erupted over their heads: Gumball had sounded an alarm. Not just any alarm, but one that would send his bubble gum guards after her. They were the Titan-like protectors of the candy kingdom. They were elite beings Cake couldn't afford to mess with.

In a symbolic way, it meant she was stripped of her knightly duties.

She made one last look at Gumball's stricken face and with tears in her eyes, fled.

"I'm sorry, Cake," Gumball spoke, his voice broken and spirit crushed. The empty room said nothing in return.

.

.

.

Fionna was fast asleep.

Marshall Lee and her had retired from the underground bunker and chose instead to slumber out in the desolate field above - not very comfortable, but strangely secure. Maybe it was the lack of life; nobody was there _to_ bother them. Even so, they had decided to keep watch. It was Marshall's turn now.

Despite wanting to stick with that plan and scan the horizon for any potential bandits, Marshall couldn't help but spare glances at Fionna instead. He was somewhat mesmerized by her. With her blonde tresses and pert nose, the splatter of freckles erupting over her pale features, and the way she looked so at peace...it was enthralling. Fionna was beautiful; Fionna was dangerous.

She was also strong and sure, putting everything she had into defending what she deemed worthy, and perhaps the reason why he was so drawn to her was that very fact.

He was one of the things she had vowed to protect.

It was a rare experience for Marshall Lee. There had been times when he held others dear to his heart, and counted on others to do the same to him, but that had been _years_ ago. _Many many years ago._ The truth was that the heart of Marshall Lee was cold, frosted over from many years of neglect, and right now, the sudden ray of light imbued through Fionna's care seemed to pierce through his very core...and it was welcome.

He wanted to feel it more.

So Marshall felt inclined to be near her. Call him selfish, but he was almost grateful that this stupid prophecy existed, because without it, how would he have ever known her? How would her light ever reach him?

Marshall tentatively reached out and placed his hand on her forehead, only to quickly withdrawal at what he had felt. "Damn it," the vampire cursed. "She's burning up." If he didn't find a way to cure her, they may never stop the onslaught of power that his mother vowed to exert. She may even...Marshall shook his head. It wasn't time to think of that. As soon as she woke up, he would take her to Xala The Witch - she was the only one who could possibly cure Fionna.

But first...first Marshall Lee had a few calls to make.

.

.

.

Marshall fished two things from his pocket. The first was a mini force field, which he had been saving for quite a while. It was green in color, and would only last an hour once placed on the ground, but it would allow Marshall Lee a chance to protect Fionna while he snuck away. The next item was a crystal communicator, which Marshall needed to make his calls - calls for his ears only. Working quickly, Marshall Lee placed the force field in Fionna's proximity, taking care to avoid its trajectory. A large orb circled their campsite, glowing a lurid green. Satisfied, Marshall Lee transformed into a bat, and took off.

.

.

.

The Night-O-Sphere Sky was as black as the void. Evening had passed long ago, and the cold of the night creeped upon the land like a plague. Light was almost nonexistent, for the stars were scarce and the moons shielded in fog. Marshall stood amidst it all, letting the wind from the air tickle his hair and wrap around his body. His heart beat something wickedly.

Clutching the communication crystal in his palm, Marshall ran his thumb idly across the jagged matter. It was an old artifact, forged long ago by the hands of a wizard who they say was mad on a good day. It was used to make calls. They had designed it with a magical spell that would not give away the location of the person using it or their contacts as well. This had interested Marshall greatly.

The vampire took a deep breath. He was supposed to be figuring out what to say, not worrying over the origins of such an item, however distracting it was. He had work to do.

"To hell with it!" Marshall cursed as he took the crystal and spoke directly into it. "Candy Kingdom - Prince Gumball."

There was a clicking noise, before a bright pink light burned deeply into the space above the crystal. A square manifested itself into thin air, Gumball's face peering through it.

Marshall swore his heart was beating out of his chest.

For a moment, the two men said nothing; deafening silence cut through the airspace instead. Awkward was an understatement for the situation.

Where words failed him, Marshall's sight was enhanced. He looked at Gumball - looked at his pink hair and soft eyes, at the way he stood with his back straight and shoulders back: all poise and posture and royal care; he stared at his lean neck, the pinkish skin disappearing somewhere under the red silk of his fabric (an attire that suited someone so proper) and watched as the prince's rosy mouth began to open. White teeth flashed brightly. He stared and stared, wondering if who he was looking at was really Gumball, Prince of the Candy Kingdom, or a ghost instead.

"Marshall…" Gumball's smooth voice broke through the vampire's thoughts, and he was pulled back into reality.

The familiarity of everything threatened to crush him.

"Hey," Marshall choked out. "How's it going Bubba?"

Gumball wrung his hands nervously in response. Marshall noticed the line of worry edged deep in between his brows - he also noticed the Prince's eyes rimmed red. Marshall frowned. "What's wrong?" he pressed.

Prince Gumball shook his head, words failing him. He swallowed instead, and Marshall eyed the bob of his neck: _up_ _and down and up and down..._ There was light pink stubble surrounding Gumball's features - he must have been working for days on end in his lab. That or he was trying a new look. Marshall glanced back up, only to find Gumball staring intently at him, his eyes blazing. Marshall Lee's throat tightened. "What?" the vampire asked.

"I know that it is perhaps rude to speak first after you were the one who called me - especially when we established these calls were for updates and emergencies, but..." Gumball cleared his throat, "I need to tell you something very important." Marshall almost laughed - leave it to Prince Pinky to make the situation so formal.

"Alright," Marshall shrugged.

"Cake found out about our letters."

The color drained from Marshall's face. Gumball must have noticed this, because he quickly tried to make amends. "That is to say," he stumbled, "that she knows of them...not of their content."

"Oh…" Marshall frowned. It didn't make the situation any less dire.

"She clawed me." As he said this, the scar across his cheeks suddenly became painfully noticeable. Marshall clenched his fists.

"So I see."

"She thinks we are working together on Fionna's kidnapping, which while it holds some veracity, isn't exactly the situation."

"Well, it kind of is."

Gumball reddened. "You and I both know that's not the case!"

It wasn't. Well...not entirely. The truth was a little more complex.

Marshall Lee stared sadly at the face of the Prince, or rather the face of an old friend. It had been a long time since they last spoke. Too long, really.

Marshall closed his eyes and let the memories course through him.

Long ago, when their kingdoms were only just beginning...the two of them had been close. Very _very_ close. Their relationship constituted some kind of comradery - a soul binding force of _something_ that burned bright and true between the two of them. They were partners. Forged through a collective _caritas,_ the two souls were practically one. But, as much as Marshall hated to admit it, somewhere along the lines they had drifted astray.

Maybe it was his fault. After all, Marshall Lee had taken off, fled from Gumball's domain into the far off lands of Ooo and there he remained for far too long. There were no visits, letters were nonexistent, and despite Gumball's calls for him to at least _drop by_ , Marshall remained in the shadows. He had his reasons of course: not wanting to get any closer to the Prince then he already was one reason, because getting close meant caring and caring meant letting someone into his deepest and most darkest thoughts - _and Marshall couldn't bring himself to do that._ So he cut ties. Caring also meant trust, and after the whole Simone incident, and later Ashley, Marshall just couldn't bring himself to do that. So he closed himself off. Skipped town. Broke the red ribbon that secured the two of them in place. It was heartbreaking, but Marshall reminded himself that they had other things they wanted out of life, or at the time that's what it felt like. Gumball had a Kingdom to worry about for Grob's sake!

So yeah, Marshall left. Maybe it wasn't on the best of terms, but there was nothing he could do about it. He needed out.

He thought it would stay like that forever too, that is until Marshall discovered the prophecy. Only then did he allow himself a chance to contact the prince. And contact him he did. Gumball found out that he was the one who was supposed to lead the Night-O-Sphere into darkness and not only this, but knew of Hana's plans to start a war between the two kingdoms. All because the prince had the amulet. _Because Hana wanted the amulet._

And Marshall was stuck in the middle.

The end result was to devise a plan.

" _My mother expects me to write you a letter,_ " Marshall had said, taking care to speak clearly and confidently. " _With this letter, I am to declare war on the Candy Kingdom. You either hand over the amulet or die - her words not mine."_ It had been the first time in almost a decade since they last spoke. " _We find a way to stop her. Get to her before she can get to you...that means we need a third party."_ Marshall had asked no questions when he saw the prophecy. He had not accused Gumball of betrayal, had not attempted to blame him, and had certainly not sided with his mother. The fact was, Prince Gumball would always be someone Marshall trusted with his life...he just wasn't going to bloody verbalize it!

" _A third party?"_ Gumball had inquired.

"I need a knight."

Marshall's trip down memory lane was cut short by the arrival of a shift in color bleeding in from the firmament above. Dawn was approaching. The vampire succumbed to this reality and found himself staring at the man in front of him, mainly at his eyes. Gumball, for all of his seriousness, was an open book when it came to his visage - Marshall swore there was a novel hidden within the prince's gaze - and it was quite easy to pick apart the emotion he was feeling in that moment.

Fear.

"B," Marshall coaxed, "listen to me. We'll figure it out." He offered a smile. "Fionna knows of the prophecy and has practically pledged her allegiance to me - the plan is falling into place."

"If everything is so fine and dandy, why are you so nervous?" Gumball questioned. Suspicion flashed across his features.

"Damn _,_ you're perceptive. _Okay,_ there are a few minor problems."

"Such as?"

"Fionna is sick...and we haven't performed the trust initiation yet."

" _Marshall!"_ Gumball admonished.

"It's not my fault!"

The prince wouldn't buy it. "I told you to watch over her, not let her fall ill! Besides, you said she practically pledged her allegiance to you, which I am finding very hard to believe...but never mind that! The point is, why haven't you done this yet?"

Marshall's ears turned pink. "It's not exactly an easy topic to bring up."

"Why? Is it because it involves-"

" _Yes!"_ Marshall interrupted. "That's exactly why." The vampire's throat went dry, his nervousness becoming tangible. "This ritual is very ceremonial and requires an open mind and spirit. It involves the sharing of personal thoughts that aren't meant for a stranger's ear. I mean, for Glob's sake it's about being naked before another! In a purely figurative manner of course, but still." Marshall frowned. "I'm not sure if I'm ready for it."

"Fionna doesn't judge."

" _Fionna_ is a goody-two-shoes dreamer who would find my inner mind disgusting. I'm no saint, B. And, why we're at it, has it ever occurred to you that maybe, she might not want to share any of her secrets either?"

"Grob…" Gumball frowned. "You're scared that she'll reject you? It's almost as if you were scared to ask her on a date." Marshall's throat seized up at his words. Gumball perused him suspiciously. "Marshall, if I'm not mistaken, are you...smitten with her?"

" _Dude."_

"Well, are you?"

Marshall wanted to crawl inside a hole.

"It's a perfectly valid question!" Gumball assured the vampire. Still, Marshall didn't like the way the prince was looking at him. It was as if he ate something that didn't agree with him.

"You know, it's not as if it matters," Marshall mumbled, casting his eyes downward. "She would never return the feelings; she's married to knightdom."

"And you to your cave you spend so much time in."

Marshall bristled. " _Hey._ That's hardly fair."

"You left me for years, Marshall. To me that's what it feels like entirely." He sighed. "It's not a crime to find Fionna desireable...she's a one of a kind girl. Of course, her sister would certainly want to cut your head off if she knew, but regardless. I know you've been lonely as of late. Maybe my company was not sufficient enough for you, but look, you can't close your heart off forever. If Fionna provides you with a bit of light to balance out your dark, then by all means, go after that. Just...don't hurt her."

Marshall went silent.

"Now," the prince cleared his throat, "we must talk about this war. Since you have Fionna as your general, there is no doubt in my mind your mother is ready to strike..."

They hung up soon enough, and Marshall was left standing below the Night-O-Sphere's sky as it slowly bled red.

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.

.

Fionna was woken up by a loud banging sound.

The adventuress' eyes snapped open, her vision suddenly assaulted by an ominous and glowing green color. It was bright, so much so that Fionna had to shield her eyes from its view, afraid that her eyeballs might melt off otherwise. She shuddered. There was also the fact that it was emitting some kind of eerie buzzing noise which definitely didn't sound safe. Whatever it was, Fionna didn't like it. Not one bit.

Looking around, Fionna realized that she was surrounded by a force field. _Odd,_ she thought. Her eyes scanned the premises again, but realized too late that something, or rather someone, was missing. Fionna's heart slammed to a dead stop.

Marshall Lee was nowhere to be found.

Panic set in, and Fionna quickly scrambled to her feet, breathing in the dry air surrounding their campsite and hating the way it scratched her throat. She felt terrible, as if her sickness was something eating her from the inside: churning her stomach and pounding away at her head. Fionna wanted to throw up. However, these complaints were quickly put out of her mind when she realized the banging noise that had woken her up had yet to go away. Fionna snapped her head around and was met with a hideous sight.

There, pounding on the green force field was a ginormous beetle, about the size of a boulder, with a metallic green shell that glowed orange against the red sky above. It made some threatening clicking sound, before it dove head first into the force field, shaking the earth below it with the impact. It looked hungry; Fionna must have been its breakfast.

"Hey!" Fionna protested, digging her feet into the ground to keep her balance. "What the stuff are you doing!?" The beetle tilted its head at the sound of her voice, it's beady eyes blinking slowly. A line of drool escaped from its mouth. Instead of stopping like Fionna had hoped, the beetle seemed to increase its power, slamming its body into the barrier so hard a crack formed. Fionna gulped.

The crack was getting larger with each hit.

Her body was still weak from her sickness.

And Marshall Lee was nowhere to be found.

Fionna's heart began to palpitate. She felt a cold line of sweat drip down her back. Breathing heavily, Fionna turned toward the crack; it was big. One more hit from the beetle and it would break for sure.

Fionna closed her eyes, and let her combat skills take over. This would only end in a battle.

 _Boom!_

 _Boom!_

Fionna clenched her teeth. _Come on_ , she urged. She cracked her knuckles for good measure.

With one final hit, the beetle had shattered the force field sending shrapnel of green glitter floating in every direction. Fionna snapped her eyes open and quickly positioned herself into a defensive position. Her blue eyes perused the situation at hand. The beetle was getting ready to pounce. By the looks of its shell, it seemed she would have a hard time breaking through its exterior to where it was vulnerable underneath. Her sword would be useless. _Still,_ it would aid in her defense. Her eyes scanned the floor. Where was the damn thing?

She didn't have time to blink before she saw the beetle advancing toward her. At the last minute she jumped, clearing the monster and watching as it stumbled to regain its balance. "Ha!" Fionna cheered. "I can use its giant mass to my advantage. It's going to be hard for the stupid thing to change direction, let alone stop itself." The adventuress scrambled to her sleeping area where her sword lay. From behind her, she heard the sound of the beetle's pincers. It was angry. She had better hurry.

"Over here you piece of trash!" she taunted, grasping her weapon and twirling around to face her enemy head on. Pure fire boiled within her gaze.

The beetle charged.

Fionna ran full speed ahead, raising her sword over her head and barreling down toward her opponent. She had to distract it - make it seem like she were going to attack when in reality she needed to lure It away from the campsite. The only way to defeat the beetle was to possibly lead it to a cliff. Luckily for Fionna, she remembered seeing some kind of crevasse on their way to the field. If she played her cards right, this battle would be a breeze.

Only, Fionna didn't calculate on the beetle being so fast. As she was devising her plan, the monster had already reached her, slamming its body against her own with the force of a tsunami. Fionna went rag doll. Her body flew in the air before landing hard against the ground, knocking the air out of her. She wheezed. She didn't even have time to block it.

The beetle charged at her again, and Fionna struggled to return to her feet. The creature raised one of its legs as if to stomp her, but Fionna managed to block it with the force of her sword. She pushed it back and let out a war cry.

The clinging of her sword against the beetle's back was music to her ears. Fionna showed no mercy, slashing the beetle and pushing it away from the campsite as she went. Her body ached. "Time to change methods," she seethed, crying out as she pushed the beetle back farther than any other times she pushed it before. As she did this, the beetle managed to slice at her arm with its pincer - blood gushed out of her wound. " _Crud,"_ Fionna spat. She dropped her sword. There was only one thing left to do.

Clutching her bleeding arm, Fionna fled.

From a stranger's point of view, this may seem like a retreat. After all, she did escape. Could it be that Fionna the human, one of Aaa's strongest and greatest warriors, was running away? Like a coward? Could it be that she met her match? That she gave up?

If you let any one of these questions cross your mind, then you've learned nothing about our dear Fionna.

She was luring this beast to its death.

The adventuress ran, listening to the beetle as it chased what it thought was its prey. Her blood pounded loudly in her ears. She. Would. Not. Falter.

Her trajectory was simple: run in a diagonal pattern, let the beetle stumble as it tried changing direction and run until she reached the edge of the cliff. Then she would face the beast head on. There she would watch it fall to its demise.

The cliff came into vision, hugging the horizon. The red of dawn burned brightly somehow fueling Fionna's passion. When she reached its edge, she cried out, "I am Fionna the human, knight of the Righteous Order and sister to Cake! I serve my prince, Gumball! But I am also an adventuress. I vow to discover the unknown and share my findings with the world. It is under these circumstances that I am forced to revoke my knightly duties and become a bandit - a traitor to my prince. This saddens me deeply, but I will not stray from this decision. Forgive me my lord!" She thought of Gumball's figure offering the amulet to Marshall's mother. "When the time comes, I will fight you."

The beetle charged. Fionna, using what little strength she had left, leaped up into the air.

The beetle's screams echoed across the cavern as it fell.

"I, Fionna the human, vow to uncover the mysteries of this kingdom. Night-O-Sphere, FEAR ME," Fionna roared. Suddenly, she became very dizzy. Her knees dropped to the ground and she stared up at the sky in agony. _Everything_ hurt.

The last thing she saw were a pair of sandals as they slowly approached her.

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 **Hello once again, thank you so much for reading! I wish to apologize for a late update, but I have been super busy as of late! Still, I could never abandon this story because I am having such a blast writing it.**

 **Shout out to those of you who reviewed the last chapter:** **FALLING-ANGEL24, Deathstarling556, and An Amber Pen. I don't know if I replied to you all through a PM but if I missed you Im terribly sorry! Just know I really appreciate your words.**

 **Thanks once again, and I will see you next time!**


	11. Light

Do you remember when you first woke up?

I don't mean in a sleeping sense, although you could probably think of it that way. What I meant to say was, do you remember when you first became aware of your surroundings? Realized you could think and walk around - understood that you were alive and _breathing?_ Sometimes we don't think about that, because we are so focused on the fact that there has always been times like these. Only, nobody remembers the day they were first born.

The earliest memory I have of me is when I was three, stumbling into my kitchen and breathing heavy in that way only children could manage. I was smiling, wearing a stupid striped shirt and red overalls; I loved those darn overalls. I hadn't entered the kitchen yet, just stood in the doorway for a while, watching my aunt who sat at our kitchen table smoke a cigarette. I was mesmerized by her hair: bushy brown and glowing orange in the sunlight pouring in from our large double windows. The shutters were a light blue. Our kitchen overlooked the skyline of one of Aaa's old cities, now lost to the map.

My aunt must have heard my breathing, because she turned to face me, a smile slowly gracing her features. She said my name I think, but smoke poured out of her mouth, and I started _crying_ ; I thought there was fire in her, and she was burning up from the inside.

Later she would pass away, because all of those cigarettes caused her lungs to turn black.

Funny, how in my innocent youthful stupor, I somehow _knew._

I think there is nothing more powerful than the mind of a child.

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Fionna dreamed of the prophecy.

She saw Gumball running toward the figure of Marshall's mother, her blue skin shining brightly from the moonlight above and wisps of her stark black hair billowing around her like great snakes, as if she were medusa herself. His arm was stretching outward from his body, straining to reach her. "Take it!" he cried desperately, and his voice echoed throughout Fionna's mind.

"No!" the adventuress yelled. "Gumball, stop!"

But dream Gumball didn't listen; he kept running. His face was contorted in pain, getting so close to his target that their hands almost brushed each other, that they were a mere breath away, that the amulet was almost falling into wrong hands, and Fionna - _Fionna couldn't._

Her body began to tingle. A strange wave of heat curled within her gut. All of a sudden her body transformed. Her peachy skin pebbled into great tufts of feathers, spreading throughout her body and leaving no flesh uncovered. Her face twisted, until she felt her nose and mouth connecting as if to form a beak. Her arms were now wings.

She was no longer human.

Like a great hawk, Fionna swooped down to the figure of Gumball and using her talons, snatched the amulet out of his hand. She was liberating the Night-O-Sphere, and she would be getting rid of this amulet once and for all.

Or so she had thought.

When she looked down at her feet, expecting to see a glowing pink object brimming with warmth and power, she was greatly disappointed, for instead she saw Gumball's arm, dislodged and bleeding. Red liquid trickled down to the ground below them, thick and steaming. The amulet was nowhere to be seen.

"No!" Fionna screamed. " _Why can't I do anything right?"_

She woke up with a start. Her back was cold and sticky with sweat, clinging to the fabric of her soiled white dress. She blinked blearily, her eyes adjusting themselves to her surroundings, while her mind computed the fact that she had just experienced a rather trippy dream. Fionna sighed. "Great, now where am I?"

She appeared to be in someone's living room, laying on an old dusty chair that bore red fabric and minimal stainage (not counting the drool she managed to leave behind). There was also a checkered blanket laid over her legs, and in front of her, an old fireplace which had a fresh set of logs burning comfortably. As for the rest of the room, well, there wasn't much else. The floors were made of wood, there were a few doors in various sides of the house, and there was a small coffee table where a lantern sat unlit.

Fionna was so caught up in staring at the room that she almost forgot how much pain she was in. Her body felt like it was _burning._ Her chest hurt, her arm hurt, and judging by her clogged nose and constricted throat, she was sick as heck. All she wanted was some rest.

She couldn't afford to rest though. Not when she had a mission (not when Marshall was counting on her).

"How did I get here?" Fionna wondered aloud. She remembered seeing a pair of sandals before she blacked out, but not much else. Had she been taken somewhere?

Fionna suddenly heard footsteps. From within the threshold of the neighboring wall beside Fionna, the head of a woman peeked through its lit entrance. The woman was (Fionna couldn't help but pick up on this fact) _old._ When she stepped into the maw of the room, Fionna was afraid she would crumble to dust.

The woman's hair was mostly fallen out, save for a little tuft at the top of her noggin which was so white it almost appeared translucent. Her beady little eyes tucked themselves within a pair of sunken eye sockets that bore a million wrinkles against her pallid, almost anemic face. Her skin was grey and wizened, splattered with numerous moles and various splotches that Fionna didn't know what to call, and her lips were so thin they almost appeared missing. The woman's back was hunched, supported by a cane which she carried in her left hand, and she clutched it shakily with the tops of her hot pink fingernails; it was almost funny to see this on such a character - Fionna was definitely intrigued. Finally, Fionna assessed the fact that the woman was wearing a dark purple, almost black cloak and on her feet were those same sandals she had seen before blacking out.

The woman looked at Fionna steadily.

Gulping, Fionna readied her voice. "Excuse me," she began, "but who the math are you?"

The old woman smiled, showing rows of yellow teeth. "I am Xala," she wheezed. (Fionna could have sworn dust came out of her mouth, maybe a moth too).

"Okay Xala, um, it's nice to meet you." Fionna scratched her head. "My name is Fionna. While I appreciate the visit, I'm just a little curious to why I'm here."

Xala laughed, but it came out more like a cough. "You humans are very funny."

Fionna smiled wearily in response.

"Isn't it obvious child?" Xala asked. "You're here because the darkness has taken hold of you." She cracked a smile. "But a blackened heart, you have not. This is why we must work fast."

"I don't understand," Fionna said, at a loss. "What are you talking about?" In a few strides, Xala reached Fionna's side and lifted her cane off of the ground. She tapped the wood against Fionna's chest, right where her heart sat buried underneath her ribcage - where it beat and thrummed in unison with the spirit of adventure. Xala nodded.

"There, child," the old woman explained, "is where the darkness of this realm has began to invade." She never took the cane off Fionna's chest, but she did take her wrinkled hand and placed it against the adventuress's head. Xala hummed in confirmation. "I sense your aura: it is so very bright. Powerful. It is brimming with absolute _good._ You my dear are a selfless creature." Xala's eyes seemed to water. "It seems as if someone is here to finally save us." Hope poured out of the old woman's mouth, pooling at Fionna's feet.

Fionna's heart swelled. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"You my dear, are destined to deliver this Sphere away from our demons. But in your current state, I am afraid that is next to impossible."

" _Why?_ Please Xala, I want to help!" Fionna grasped the old woman's hands. She looked through her beady eyes. "Are you referring to my sickness?"

"Yes," Xala wheezed. "It stems from your body's rejection of this realm's darkness. Your body is not used to our air: smoke ridden and full of blackened goop. You must be purified! You need," Xala let out a cough, "...you need a barrier. Something to block out the evil."

"And how do I get that?" Fionna practically yelled. Xala banged Fionna on the head with her cane. " _Hey!"_

"From me of course!" Xala snapped. "I'm a witch after all."

Fionna's heart sped up. "A witch!?"

"Yes. What? Do you not like witches?"

"Of course I do! In fact, I'm curious." Fionna's eyes danced with excitement. "Where wizards are not to be trusted, a witch always keeps her word. Your kind is crafty though, I'll give you that."

Xala grinned. "Do they teach you flattery on the surface?"

"Cake says there's no greater magic than our words," Fionna answered.

"Wise words from a baked good."

"She's a cat, actually."

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.

.

Marshall's hands were clammy after his call with Gumball.

Maybe it was the fact that he had just spoken to his former rival and very close friend - Gumball hadn't changed a bit, and Marshall was actually pleased about that fact. _However,_ a smarter part of Marshall Lee's brain told him that, no…he was nervous for another reason entirely.

He needed to contact his mother.

The vampire's stomach felt sick. Now that Fionna had, in principle, pledged her allegiance to him, he would need to notify his mother in order to set their plan into action and begin war with the Candy Kingdom. This included, of course, having to introduce Fionna to his mother, and that was something Marshall _really_ didn't want to do. Never mind the fact that she would most likely embarrass him, his mother would also be judging his choice of general. In other words, she would be judging Fionna. While Marshall had faith in Fionna's abilities, his mother had always set high standards, and she may not be too pleased with Fionna's...unconventional way of doing things. Marshall was worried, because if his mother did not approve, there would be repercussions - usually in the form of verbal abuse. Unfortunately for Marshall, he had yet to desensitize himself to her criticisms.

He had gone through it his entire life.

 _You're too weak,_ she would assert. _Stop crying, it's not becoming of a boy, or the future ruler of this kingdom._ Her words were engraved into his mind: a record on repeat.

 _You think that you're worth anything? It's no wonder Ashly left you! Why the hell are you spending so much time with this Gumball character anyway? He's too soft. It's rubbing off on you! And what is with this inane hobby of yours? Music? Do something useful with your life, Marshall Lee!_

He had always been a victim of his mother's anger, and she had taken it out on his personality, trying to mold him into a son worth presenting, but Marshall had never fit into this mold. He was misunderstood - an angsty brooding kid who didn't want to hear himself be discouraged. His self esteem became damaged beyond repair.

And now...having to present his first choice of a general to his mother - having to introduce Fionna to her - Marshall was _terrified._ More than that, he didn't want Fionna to have to go through the same thing.

So could you blame him for not wanting to call his mother?

Marshall sighed. He knew he had no choice, especially if he wanted the plan to work. That meant he had to put aside his fears, however serious they were. It was going to be hard, but he was running out of options.

With that, Marshall wearily clutched the communicator crystal within his palm and reluctantly spoke into it, "Night-O-Sphere. Hana Abadeer."

The face of his mother burned into the sky above. She smiled triumphantly.

.

.

.

Fionna eased herself into the bubble bath Xala had set for her; it was brimming with yellow colored water and lighter spheres of soap that rose up around her and clung to her more _delicate_ parts. Fionna was amazed at the fact that the bubbles covered enough of her that she was able to feel at ease. After all, Xala was busying herself in the corner of the small bathroom, preparing a remedy for Fionna's sickness and Fionna _really_ didn't want to put her body on view, even if Xala was nothing more than an old witch.

The bathroom was oddly charming, with brown wooden floorboards and a small window that housed a purple plant on its modest sill. There was a white sink in the corner of the room with a cabinet underneath. The bathtub was also white, with intricately designed feet in the shape of dragon claws that gleamed gold when caught in the light; it leaned against the back wall of the room where, connected to the wall, sat a confusing faucet system (the witch must have jinxed it to adhere to her needs. It looked way too confusing in Fionna's eyes).

The adventuress settled herself against the tub, closing her eyes. The bath was _hot,_ steam rising from its waters and fogging the mirror above the sink, rendering Fionna's normally pale skin a soft rosy color. She had to admit, after weeks of adventure and nonstop stress, it felt amazing to wash off all of her filth and grime - cathartic almost. The wounds across her chest and arm stung at first, sure, but _glob_ they felt so much better now.

"Is everything alright?" questioned Xala. The witch poured the clear liquid she was working on into the bath; it smelled of peaches. Fionna hummed in response: a sleepy _yes._ Xala grunted in approval. "Good. Your body needs to relax in order to deal with the sickness."

Fionna couldn't help but ask, "Why is the water yellow?"

Xala, for all of her patience, sighed in annoyance. " _Honestly_ , do you humans know anything?"

"..."

"It's one of my potions," Xala explained. "The faucet against the wall dispenses them. Don't you have this contraption where you live? You know, above?"

"Not that I've seen."

"Well, you should think of investing in one of them! Now, wash behind your ears." Xala hurried over to the faucet and turned it to the left: rushing green water came pouring out, transforming the yellow into a light green. Bubbles escaped into the air giddily.

Fionna grumbled, but complied. She tucked her matted dark blonde hair behind her ear and reached for the soap. It was a light blue bar that Xala charmed so that it would not slip out of her hands. Fionna began to scrub. Her pink skin gleamed with a watery sheen.

"So," Xala began, breaking the silence, "tell me. The reason you are here in this realm is to save it from darkness, no?"

Fionna swallowed nervously and busied herself with the soap so she wouldn't have to look in Xala's eyes. "I think so… I mean of _course,_ but how did you know that?"

"I can feel it; can read it on your face. I also know of the prophecy."

Fionna's eyes widened. "How?"

"Nothing goes unlooked from my line of sight. I've been down that cellar. Used to go there to think. Then I stepped on the skull." Xala took time to measure the effect of her words. She gave a hearty cough. "When I saw you in that field above, well, I just knew it was you who was going to save us."

Fionna began scrubbing her legs. "I'm going to do my best," she vowed.

"I believe you."

"But if I'm the one destined to deliver this realm from darkness then...why is my body so weak here?"

"Weak?"

"Well, yeah...I mean that's the reason I got so sick."

Xala tutted in disapproval. "You my child, are anything but weak - and you are not sick! Illness is nonexistent in this realm. You're infected. Your goody-two-shoes heart is being invaded by darkness." The witch smiled with her yellow grin. "That's why I'm here to purge you, or rather give you a form of protection."

Fionna sunk down further into the bath, blowing more bubbles with her nose. The truth was, she was nervous. She had been through so much in the Night-O-Sphere, encountering various creatures who had only set out to hurt her. Xala was a witch, and despite her friendly countenance, Fionna found it very hard to trust her. But witches always kept their word, and if she said she was going to purge Fionna of this darkness, then Fionna knew she would honor that.

But at what price?

"If you don't mind me asking," Xala suddenly spoke, "how did you get that nasty wound across your chest?" Fionna looked down at the once scabbed over laceration, the one that once screamed an angry red. Underneath the layer of bubbles, it was pink like the rest of Fionna's skin.

"I don't remember," Fionna replied truthfully. She swallowed. "Marshall told me he gave it to me."

Xala spluttered, "Marshall? As in _Marshall_ _Lee?"_

"Uh, yes?"

"The current King of this realm!?"

"Yes…" Fionna blushed. Why was Xala freaking out so much? "We fought in a battle and-"

" _You fought him!?_ Did you want a death wish? He's working with Hana Abadeer - his mother! They're royalty. G _lob,_ how could you even think of fighting him!? And what do you mean you don't remember?" Xala clutched her chest.

"I- I don't know! He was the one who brought me here and showed me the prophecy. He asked me to help save the sphere."

Xala's face paled considerably. Fionna really didn't want to upset her heart any more than she already was, especially with how old she was. If Xala had a heart attack, Fionna would faint.

"B-but...Marshall Lee is our king," Xala stumbled, "no one in this realm has ever had the guts to confront such a demon...his mother as well. What exactly are you two planning?"

Fionna's throat tightened. Could she really trust Xala? She looked at the old woman who was visibly shaking. Her beady little eyes looked terrified.

It was the most human thing Fionna had seen since coming to this realm.

So she told her.

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.

.

"The Night-O-Sphere and The Candy Kingdom are going to war," Xala repeated, "because Hana is going to betray this sphere...just like the prophecy told. Only, Marshall and you plan on stopping this." The witch was amazed. "So Marshall is a good guy?"

Fionna laughed. "I wouldn't exactly say that," she giggled. Currently, Fionna was drying off with a rather large towel. The potion bath had made Fionna strangely light-headed, but in a good way. She felt so at ease. Xala told her she needed to be numbed to the outside world for the purging to take place; she needed to be calm and happy.

"Wow, I never would have guessed it. Marshall has come here from time to time in need of potions, but he was always so intimidating. Everything about him screamed hostility. Maybe I was just scared because of his attitude; it was as if he wanted to suck my blood!"

Fionna thought this was extremely hilarious. Actually, everything seemed funny. "Marshall just likes to play around. Everything's a big joke to him." Fionna smiled big and dopey. "Silly vampire."

"I think I might have over did it with the bubble bath…"

Fionna simply laughed.

"So I take it you've done the formal pledge then?" Xala asked.

Fionna's face scrunched up in confusion. She blurted, "Whazzat?"

Xala face palmed. "You humans never cease to impress me. You know, your official pledge of allegiance! There is a kind of ritual the two of you must perform - it's very ceremonial here."

"Sounds stupid," Fionna said. She felt very woozy now. The room was spinning. The sight of Xala's hair suddenly made Fionna burst into laughter. It bubbled out of her throat.

"I forgot to take into account the fact that your kind isn't used to hard potions like the rest of us. Oh well, shouldn't make much of a difference."

"You know what else is stupid?" Fionna giggled. "Marshall. He's going to be upset when he finds me missing!" The adventuress laughed hysterically at this. She twirled around the room with the towel draped over her shoulders like a cape. Xala sighed and quickly cast a clothing spell on the girl. Fionna's skin was suddenly covered with a blue skirt and long sleeve shirt. The adventuress' eyes went wide.

"Would you quit acting like a child? _Honestly._ Now let's do something about your hair," Xala scolded.

Fionna's hand trailed through her blonde locks; it tumbled down to her waist in a blonde tsunami. The adventuress shifted her weight. "Um...what about it?" she mumbled.

"Aren't you going to brush it? Tie it back? Do something?"

Fionna twirled in a circle."I usually just put it in my hat."

Xala closed her eyes, clearly appalled. " _Fine._ But don't come crying to me when you have knots the size of Aaa in the back of your head."

In the end, Xala ended up brushing it for Fionna, much to the girl's chagrin. As Fionna sat against a wooden stool, leaning into Xala's comforting ministrations, she was reminded of her mother. Then she thought of Cake, and felt like crying. The potion wouldn't let her though; it made her tears stop, and instead Fionna began to hiccup.

Xala, who knew very much about the effects of her potions and what hiccuping meant, did not say anything. She simply kept brushing.

Honestly, Fionna was grateful.

After a while, Fionna's body did become numb. The potions had finally set in and they were ready for the purging. Xala lit various candles around the room and positioned them in a diamond pattern. She placed flour along the ground in order to connect the candles.

"Are you ready?" the witch asked Fionna steadily.

"Yes," Fionna confirmed. The adventuress grinned broadly.

"Then let's begin." Xala started speaking in strange incantations and spells, making the flour on the ground glow a strange lurid purple. Fionna's stomach felt sick.

And then she was hit with searing pain straight in her heart. Fionna screamed.

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"Oh Marshall," his mother crooned, "we've missed you so much here at the castle." Marshall Lee sat against the Night-O-Sphere's rugged earth, watching his mother peer through the pink window of light cast by the communicator crystal. Her voice resonated loud and clear. "Ever since you ran off, the guards have been so lonely." She smiled wickedly. " _I've_ been lonely."

Marshall Lee eyed her steadily, a growl stuck in his throat. "Sorry for the inconvenience," he replied.

"Now, tell me again why you decided to run off without so much of a goodbye?"

His mother was toying with him. She knew perfectly well why he ran off - his _loyal_ guards most likely ratted him out. Besides, Hana knew everything. She just wanted to see Marshall sweat, but he would not give her or the triumphant smile she wore the satisfaction. "You remember the general I was telling you about," he reined in the conversation. His mother's eyes gleamed. "Let's just say she's finally come around."

"Good boy," Hana praised. Marshall grinned. "Except," she paused, letting his satisfaction fade, "you know that she still has to go through me, right? I am your partner after all." Her smile reeked of poison.

Marshall clenched his jaw. "Of course, mom."

"So you've gone through the initiation then?"

The vampire's heart dropped. His eyes darted to the left, to the right - anywhere but on his mother's eyes. "Well…"

" _Marshall Lee."_

"Okay," he relented, "the trust initiation hasn't exactly taken place yet…"

Hana's smile dropped. She pursed her lips, narrowing her demon eyes. "What do you mean it hasn't taken place?"

"I mean...Fionna and I haven't had the chance to perform it quite yet."

" _Oh,_ so her name is Fionna is it?"

 _You idiot!_ Marshall scolded himself.

"Sounds cute," Hana teased. She examined her fingernails, feigning disinterest. She wanted to see her son squirm.

Marshall felt his face burn - anger and embarrassment rushing through his body. "She's more than cute. She's dangerous!"

"You admit she's cute then?" His mother laughed. "How _exciting!_ I bet she keeps you on your toes. Good, I like a girl with a little backbone. Just as long as she understands who's _really_ on top." Hana grinned slowly.

Fionna, Marshall knew, would never bow so easily to someone as spineless as his mother. He was afraid Fionna would say something to upset her, and then they'd really be in trouble. _Ugh,_ Marshall thought, _stupid_ _human!_

"So when do I get to meet the charming girl?" his mother pressed. Translation: bring her to me as soon as possible.

"As soon as the initiation is complete," promised Marshall. Translation: when I'm good and ready.

"Dinner. The three of us."

"It will be done."

And because his mother just couldn't help herself, she got one last jab at her son. "Don't be so afraid of the initiation, Marshall Lee. I know you don't deal well with pretty girls, but honestly, man up! You're a charming lad." She winked.

Marshall felt his stony exterior crack. Involuntarily, a blush crept up his neck. "M-mom!" he protested.

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Fionna's head felt awful.

There was a terrible pounding that echoed throughout her head, rattling her brain around like a game of pin-ball.

 _Ping!_

Fionna groaned. She wearily tried focusing her eyes to her surroundings which, _how lovely,_ were nothing more than an endless black void. Fionna noted it's lack of anything and the chilling breeze that followed. Again: how lovely.

"Hello?" Fionna called out. "Is anyone there? Marshall Lee?" She paused, and then realizing what had happened before she came to wherever this place was, groaned again. "Xala? You there?" Fionna faintly heard a muffled sound, it's pitch all fuzzy. Her heart leaped. "Xala?"

As if a giant wad of earwax was lifted out of Fionna's ears, the human girl suddenly heard the witch's voice, clear as day. "Fionna," she spoke, "it is hard for me to contact you here in your current position, but I'm trying my best."

"My current position?" Fionna looked around the darkened room. "And where might that be?"

"Well...your body is still at my home, but your mind on the other hand…"

"Don't tell me I'm inside my brain." _Glob,_ as if this sphere couldn't get any weirder.

Xala gave a nervous laugh. "Actually you're inside your heart."

 _Just great._

Fionna sighed. It certainly wasn't the weirdest encounter she ever had, but it didn't change the fact that the adventuress _really_ didn't want to play any more mind games. Xala had said she needed to be purged. How was traveling to her heart of all places going to help that?

"Fionna…" Xala addressed her with caution. "I need you to listen for a bit; you don't have much time. Your heart has been taken over by the darkness of this realm, which is why you were so sick. While you're here you need to combat it. Luckily for you, this is your body, and because of that fact, you get to play by its rules - in other words fight first and ask questions later."

"Wait, _fight?_ But what-" And then, surprise surprise, Fionna was interrupted by the sound of snarling.

Now, Fionna had fought monsters before. Scratch that, she had _encountered_ them before; not all monsters constituted fighting. The population of Aaa was at least 67% monster anyway. Let's just say that Fionna had fought many...creatures in her lifetime. Poisonous bats, lava-saurs, venus pie-traps, snow beasts crafted by the Ice Queen, business zombies, ogres, sprites, gargoyles, possessed kitchenware - _you name it_ \- entities like these were nothing compared to the power of Fionna's sword. The adventuress was no rookie when dealing with the likes of evil beings.

But these beings before her now...oh, they were no ordinary creatures; they were absolutely _heinous._

If anything, they resembled wet canines, only ones that had no fur and even more of a hunch. Their bodies were sacks of bones, the cartilage jutting out in awkward positions like a snapped branch, and somehow hinged together with black as night skin that sagged to the ground yet remained taut around their limbs. Along their backs were large moth-eaten wings that curled inward on themselves as if acting as shields. Fionna shuddered at the sight of their mouths: lips curled forever in a snarl, showing the copious amount of teeth sharpened to a fine point - just a prick of a finger would be enough for you to bleed out. The adventuress shivered. She didn't even want to look into their glowing red eyes, she knew _those_ were just screaming evil.

There were many of them, all staring directly at Fionna and she knew, _Grob_ she knew, that this would only end in bloodshed. Only, how was she supposed to fight without a sword?

Thankfully, Xala was there to clear that all up. "Fionna," the witch's voice barely came through, "remember, this is your body. You play by _your_ rules. And don't forget, when all else fails listen to your heart."

"That isn't reassuring considering my heart is filled to the brim with these kinds of creatures," Fionna countered. She was being backed into a wall by the demons, specifically a much larger and uglier one that Fionna assumed was their leader. Fionna shuddered as she saw a thick line of drool escape from its mouth.

"Oh _hush_ you-" Xala's voice was cut off. Fionna clenched her teeth; she was guessing that's all she would hear of Xala, at least till the fight was over.

Gathering up her strength, Fionna rolled her shoulders. "Alright ya filthy animals," she taunted, "bring it." In unison, all of the creatures bared their teeth: they were not pleased by her tone of voice. At least half of them took to the skies while the remaining ones on the ground began to charge. It took everything Fionna had to keep from screaming out - instead she readied her stance.

 _Play by your rules._

A bead of sweat rolled down Fionna's neck. She had merely seconds to think of what that old witch meant. _Come on,_ Fionna thought frantically, _think!_

Then she remembered what her sister always taught her: when it comes to fighting, don't think - act.

So Fionna did just that.

When Fionna was younger, first learning how to fight, Cake always told her how much of a natural she was. Fighting seemed to come straight from her blood: an innate instinct that was pre-programmed into her very core. She _knew_ how it worked, how to counter her opponents movements and use them against them, how to block and parry and jump out of harms way - how to _defend_ herself while also keeping up an offensive. Fionna didn't need to be taught the art. While she never excelled much in school or academics, Fionna aced any form of physical exertion.

Because she didn't think: she acted. Fionna the human relied on instinct and instinct alone.

So when those creatures surrounded her from every side, opening their mouths for a quick bite and _pouncing,_ Fionna let her body take over. Somewhere, a battle cry erupted out of her mouth. Fionna's heart began to sing.

From her right one of the creatures made a move to slash her side. Fionna quickly evaded, watching as the black blur of its body barely missed her; she took hold of its wings, and using them for leverage, hoisted herself atop the creatures back. It screetched an unholy sound. As it tried to buck her off it entered a clumsy awkward state and unthinkingly crashed into the creatures around them. Fionna wrapped her thighs around its neck and using all of her strength, squeezed. Within seconds the creature slumped to the ground.

Fionna scrambled to a fighting stance, but was quickly bombarded by a number of the creatures soaring over her head. The adventuress ducked down as one of them nearly cut her head off with its claws. " _Crash,"_ Fionna cursed. She took off running, attempting to evade any attacks from below while side stepping attacks from above. It was exhausting, but she had to keep going. _There has to be another way,_ she thought desperately. One of the creatures managed to bite her arm while she wasn't paying attention and Fionna swore. Searing pain jerked through her body. Instinctively, Fionna cupped her arm.

 _This is your body._

Fionna was breathing heavily.

 _Play by its rules._

As if Fionna suddenly entered a state of knowing, the adventuress stopped dead in her tracks. This was her heart. She was the master here.

"Enough!" she roared, watching as _somehow_ visible wavelengths of her voice appeared and sent the creatures flying back. Without thinking, Fionna's hand dug into the black ground below her.

Her hand seeped into something _sticky._ It was an atrocious feeling: cold and slimy, a wet liquid oozing against her skin. It seemed to be pulling on her hand, almost as if it wished to engulf her body whole. At last she felt something solid and with great strength, hoisted it up out of the ground. A long note filled the air in song; Fionna had unsheathed a great sharp sword.

It rang with praise.

One by one the creatures managed to regroup, lining up in some demonic formation. The large one snorted smoke out of its nostrils. Fionna looked it directly in the eyes and smirked. "Come and get me," she antagonized, loving the way fire danced in its eyes - she knew her's were the same.

And then, the two parties began to battle.

I wish I could put into words the beauty of this fight: behind the gore and murderous intent of Fionna's swordplay lied something graceful and beautiful. She moved with such skilled precision, her movements tactful - flowing like water and turning her opponent's attacks against them, her muscles rippling and flexing throughout her core. Like a dance, the two parties circled around each other, at times pulling apart only to fall back against one another, chest against chest - sword against skin. Fionna twirled and dodged, tumbled to the ground and sprang to life. She slashed her opponents and swiped at their heads, knocking back hoards in great numbers. She was small but fierce, grinding her teeth to dust as she held her own against the hell beasts invading her heart. This was her domain, and she would defend it or die trying.

Be all this true, Fionna would not come out unscathed. Though she was strong with her sword, the fact was there were too many of these foul beings. They were rabid, bent on destroying Fionna in any way possible. Their claws swiped against her skin, breaking the soft fleshy layer as if in search for the treasure underneath: blood and ligaments and _bone._ Their yellow sharpened teeth dug into the fatty bits of her skin, savoring the taste of girl and human - of a warrior through and through. They relished in her screams of pain and anger. _More_ , they seemed to say, _give us more!_ In great numbers they flocked around her figure, until there was nothing but a ball of darkness engulfing her frame.

Their leader, the biggest _ugliest_ of them all, gave a final order.

 _Kill her._

And maybe they would have. Maybe light would have finally succumbed to darkness; if it were not Fionna they were fighting.

Fionna the human gave a shrill cry, "Get out of my heart!"

She didn't see. As Fionna was fighting, slashing her enemies to pieces and delivering decisive blows, she didn't see the black of her heart slowly bleed color.

 _Purple,_ that was what invaded her heart first. It glowed brightly, easing against Fionna's mind and somehow making her more sure of herself. It was a confidence booster - an echo of her sister Cake who told her that no matter what, Fionna could accomplish anything. She _would_ win this fight. If her sister taught her anything, it was to never give up. She held this lesson close to her heart.

Another hue broke through, the color blue swirling alongside the first, calming Fionna's unravelling nerves and pulling them together. The feeling washed over her, reminding her of her ma and pa's undying affection and the way they accepted her into their family so effortlessly. That care she received would follow her to her grave. In this battle, it would remind her that there would always be people rooting for her.

Speaking of rooting, the color yellow seeped into her heart next. This was the color of the citizens of Aaa, all of those beautiful creatures Fionna vowed to protect and die for at a moment's notice. Everything she did was for them.

Next came the color pink. _Oh,_ what a color it was: the same shade as Prince Gumball's hair. Part of her heart thrummed in appreciation - she always had a soft spot for Gumball after all. The color was a command, an order - an outright decree. A flash of warning echoed throughout Fionna's mind: DESTROY THESE BEASTS AND BRING PEACE. The knight in her would not dare disobey.

Finally, the last bit of darkness seemed to fade away, replaced with a brilliant red. With the advent of this came an imprint of Marshall Lee, and a sudden urge to protect not only Aaa's surface, but down below as well. Her heart thumped wildly, palpitating great enough that the ground below her began to wobble. However, instead of flailing around like most of the creatures before her, Fionna was somehow held up. It was as if some force was holding her steady - a guiding hand.

 _Kick some butt, human._

The darkness was no more. Fionna had wasted no time clearing them out of her domain, and around her heart, a casing of rainbow light began to fit itself in: a ring of protection.

Her sickness had been vanquished.

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 **Thanks once again everyone who has read my story. I appreciate all of the support that has been given to me.**

 **Shout out to the lovely reviewers: An Amber Pen, Deathstarling556, and JuiceoftheORANGE. Your words were so uplifting :)**

 **Have a wonderful week!**


	12. Trust

I've been thinking for a while now, that all of you beautiful creatures - all of you with your wide open ears and attentive faces, who listen to my tale and allow me a chance to voice the words trapped in my mind for so very long - have somehow decided that I'm worth listening to.

This prospect is a scary thing, one that harbours duties and responsibilities and make storytelling a bit nerve wracking. Of course, I would like to make things interesting for you. However, if there comes a time where I am to stray from something you expected to be conventional, will you still respect me? If my words strike an unfamiliar chord, does that make me less worth listening to? Am I to abandon my feelings and my imagination simply because they are not quite understood? Or am I to keep going despite it all, and fade away until no one remembers my name?

Would you remember my name?

What's that? I...I haven't told you? Oh...well this is certainly awkward.

Well now I have to tell you, don't I? Great.

Trust me I want to tell you - really I do! It's just, well...my name is more of a concept than an actual sound, it's - it's not something that can be spelled out per say. My name is an old name, one that no one in modern Aaa would think of naming their child. Well, I suppose it's as good as any time to reveal it.

Hello there, my name is the concept of a cow jumping over the moon but undershooting the shot and ending up caught in its gravitational field - forever orbiting the crater covered surface. There is no spelling - a simple gurgled moo will suffice.

...maybe this is why my friends refer to me as The Storyteller.

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Marshall swept over the land like a shadow.

His wings carried him throughout the Night-O-Sphere's desolate fields, their ministrations causing great bursts of air to scatter seeds and split grass in half. His powers were a destructive force in this way, something fitting for a creature bred from the former ruler of the sphere. While Marshall resented this at times, he had to admit, they came in handy.

Marshall was heading in the direction of their campsite where he hoped Fionna was still sleeping, safe and sound. The force field he had set up should have been close to shutting down. Picking up his pace, Marshall eventually made it back to the field above the underground bunker. He hit the ground running and returned to his vampire form, limbs of a human and all. Only, upon actually walking up to the field, Marshall realized that there was a huge problem at hand.

Fionna was gone.

She had vanished - nowhere to be seen - and Marshall wasn't sure he could take vampire's heart dropped straight into his stomach. His red eyes scanned the ground frantically. The force field was broken, Fionna's sword was missing, and the adventuress had left no trace.

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! He left her alone for one second and she was either kidnapped or ran away.

Marshall Lee dropped to his knees, involuntarily twitching. He refused to believe it. He would not believe it.

Glob damn it!

"Stupid Human!" he roared, his voice echoing throughout the sphere.

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Fionna came to and realized that in the space of her chest, there was a strange humming aura.

"That my child," Xala wheezed, "is the barrier you were in need of." It was a form of protection: an armor of a sorts. With it, there would be no more darkness seeping into her heart - Fionna had been purged.

Fionna placed a hand gingerly against her chest. She was a little disoriented, but otherwise fine. "I'm just happy I don't have the urge to throw up anymore," Fionna admitted. She flashed Xala a blinding smile. It was so bright that the witch almost wondered if that was how she defeated her monsters - with a bit of sunshine to balance out the bad.

"Well that doesn't mean you shouldn't rest. After all, you have a long journey ahead of you. I just hope Marshall Lee doesn't worry too much about your absence…"

Fionna smiled. "Yeah I-" she paused. Her back tensed up. Her previous words died in her throat. "He's going to lose it when he realizes I'm missing."

Xala laughed nervously, as if she were hiding the fact that she had just wet her pants. "W-when you say lose it…"

"I mean he's going to be out for blood."

For the first time since meeting Fionna, the witch fainted. Well, to be fair, she had lasted longer than most.

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Xaka trekked along the Night-O-Sphere's soil in hopes that she could somehow find Marshall Lee - not that she wanted to. No, that was far from the truth. It was just, the witch had no choice. In Fionna's current state, it would have been impossible for the girl to make the trip herself, and if Xala hadn't volunteered in her stead, she knew Fionna's obstinate personality would have made her do it. They couldn't afford Fionna passing out mid walk - the sphere couldn't afford that. So Xala was forced to make her way to the field above the underground bunker: Xala's (former) resting joint.

The witch shivered. She was nervous. Despite what Fionna made Marshall out to be, the witch knew better. She had witnessed his bloody gaze, had been petrified under his stare more than one occasion. It was nightmarish: promises of death swam at its surface.

Xala wanted to believe that Marshall Lee was different, or that he had changed, but a simple word from Fionna wasn't going to change her view on the vampire, at least not until she experienced it for herself in person. Not only this, but Xala had grown rather attached to Fionna, and if Marshall really was lying to her, well, Xala would have to somehow prevent his plan from continuing. While she was terrified, she learned bravery first hand from Fionna, and would do her best to practice that.

Even if she was killed for it.

Xala was nearing the field, it's purple tufts of grass billowing softly in the breeze that swept through the otherwise barren land. She wasn't really expecting to find the vampire.

But she did, oh of course she did, and his look was utter terror.

Marshall Lee's face was stricken with absolute frustration. His sharp teeth were bared and his eyes were blazing as if they were made of fire. He hissed loudly; the sound caused Xala's heart to drop straight into her stomach and her hair to stand on edge. Anger was radiating off of him, tangible and thick in the air, choking him and choking her and oh Glob Fionna wasn't kidding when she said he'd be out for blood. Marshall's grey complexion suddenly underwent a transformation that scattered black fur across his body - beastly, so very beastly. From his back grew matted wings and his regal face was morphed into that of a bat's. Xala's heart was going to give out. She stumbled back in fear, releasing a gasp previously stuck in her throat. Unfortunately for Xala, her bottom landed on a stick which emitted a surprisingly strident snapping noise.

Marshall's head whipped in her direction.

His body evaporated into blackness, and when she tried to locate his materialized form, she found herself blinking, only to open her eyes to red. Xala was looking at the bloodied gaze of Marshall Lee.

She screamed.

Marshall's hand seized her throat, stopping any sound from escaping. Only when he was sure that she would remain silent, he released her - Xala erupted into a coughing fit. Marshall Lee had no remorse.

"What are you doing out here?" he hissed, spitting his words at her face. Xala took a gulp of air - and another and another - there wasn't enough! "Answer me!" he continued. "Or I'll squash your lungs. How long have you been here?"

"I," Xala spluttered, "I just got here, I swear."

"Liar!"

"I swear!"

Marshall grabbed her shoulders, encasing his wings around her frame - trapping her. His eyes were such a dark red they almost appeared black. He was such a nightmarish creature, Xala thought, the perfect representation of this sphere. "You're going to answer my questions truthfully," Marshall demanded, nothing but hatred within his vocals.

Xala could only nod.

Marshall spoke low and heavy, "Have you seen a human girl around here?"

A bead of sweat ran down the side of Xala's face. "Yes," she wheezed. He tightened his grip on her. Somewhere within his gaze, Xala saw relief. She also saw something that made her widen her eyes: Marshall Lee was worried. The vampire buried it under his anger and frustration, disguised it within layers of contempt and spite - made it almost invisible. He had to keep up a front, Xala found, had to appear the perfect absolute ruler of this realm when in reality, he was scared. Marshall Lee was terrified. He was worried about some silly human girl.

And Xala's own heart swelled with relief. Fionna had been right.

"Where is she?" Marshall croaked.

So Xala showed him back to her cottage.

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The beast inside Marshall Lee that fed off anger and anxiety would not be quelled - not until he saw Fionna safe and sound with his own eyes. Xala noticed this the whole trip back to her home (noticed the way Fionna had somehow wormed her way into the vampire's life, and how he had grown to care for her because of it). Xala wondered how much Fionna meant to Marshall Lee and why. Was it all really just to save the sphere?

It just felt so much more than that.

They finally arrived and Marshall wasted no time rushing inside to find Fionna. His monstrous body quickly reverted back to his vampire form at the threshold of the door and he turned to look at Xala. "How bad is she?" he asked, his concealed worry slowly unravelling.

"See for yourself," Xala urged.

Marshall entered the doorway. His vision was hit with the sight of Fionna sleeping soundly on a chair in the living room, and Xala watched as Marshall's face melted into sheer gratitude. Wasting no time, the vampire marched straight to Fionna, where he promptly dropped to his knees in front of her. His hands moved to cup her face, and he pushed his forehead against her own.

He breathed.

"Did you help her?" he asked.

Xala nodded. "Everything is okay. She...the darkness had taken over her heart, but she's find now. She's been purged."

He turned to her. "I...thank you. There must be someway I can show my gratitude."

"Of course not. I only provided the means for Fionna to travel to her heart - she was the one who defeated her demons, not I."

Marshall nodded. "Very well...but, you mustn't tell anyone that she's here - or the reason why. I'm not sure what she told you but, if my mother were to find out…"

"I understand."

He must not have believed her, because his eyes grew dark. "I won't hesitate to end your life."

Xala shivered. He wasn't lying. "Affirmative."

"Good...now, if it's not too much to ask, I need your help with another thing."

"G-go on."

"Fionna and I need to perform a trust ceremony."

Xala's eyes widened. "You mean -"

"Yes. If Fionna is going to pledge her allegiance to me, we have no choice but to carry out the Night-O-Sphere's most binding tradition."

Xala clutched her robe. "Things won't be the same you know."

Marshall grinded his teeth. "I know that, but like I said before, I have no choice! My mother is expecting this."

"When are you going to stop listening to your mother's orders!? You're the king aren't you?" Xala snapped. Then, she grew pale. She couldn't believe she had just snapped at royalty. "F-forgive me your highness, I did not intend-"

"Xala," Marshall cut her off, "even someone as wise as you should know that that is not the truth." His face had fallen: dejected, busted and blue. Realization flashed across the witch's features.

"Y-you mean."

"I'm not really King."

His mother controlled everything, after all.

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Fionna regarded Marshall as if she were dreaming.

She must have been, right? After all, there was no way he could be standing before her, not when she was at Xala's. It seemed ridiculous to even think he would have found her.

Well, Xala did say she was going out looking for him, but that could have taken ages, and she was certain she hadn't been sleeping that long. So, why was the figure of Marshall Lee standing before her with a dastardly smirk gracing his stupidly noble features? Fionna's thoughts: she was dreaming.

Fionna watched as the figure of Marshall shifted his weight to the side. He hadn't seen her yet - he was more focused on the red apple in his hand. Fionna was still mesmerized at the way Marshall could drain its color, leaving behind nothing but grey lifeless matter.

She was also mesmerized by his face. Marshall Lee was, Fionna couldn't help but notice, strangely handsome. It wasn't a conventional beauty either. He had dark hair that fell shaggy across his forehead, its length long enough to kiss his eyelashes and messy enough to nest a bird in. His skin was pale and grey. He had an aquiline nose and a jawline as sharp as her sword, and lineaments that were noble yet roguish. He looked scary. Half of the time he was glaring but...he had such striking eyes: red as rubies on a normal basis, but ever changing, depending on the situation. She had seen them grow dark with anger and rosy when at ease, and Fionna had even seen them blaze like fire the moment he prepared for battle. She almost wanted to never look away from them.

She wanted to meet his gaze head on.

So yeah, Marshall intrigued her, and it wasn't solely his appearance either. Marshall's very existence made Fionna's mind go haywire. He was supposed to be evil, bred from the Night-O-Sphere's darker corners and molded by Aaa's hard times, his internal makeup and external environment were both flower beds for contempt to grow. He should have fed off of spite! He should have taken his anger and bottled it up inside until it festered and grew uncontrollably. He was supposed to be a bad guy, but...but…

All Fionna has heard and witnessed had been nothing of the sort. Not even kidnapping her - which of course she was still a teensy bit mad about. It was just, he wanted to protect his home and was that really an evil wish? Fionna didn't think so.

How could she not be drawn toward him?

Suddenly his voice rang out to her, like a bell almost, lilting the words, "Are you finished staring longingly at me, Fi?"

A record scratched. She would never dream those words.

Fionna's face erupted in color, and she almost fell off of her chair. "M-M-Marshall! You really are here!" Grob, she was absolutely burning.

"What, did you think you were dreaming?"

Yes.

"N-no, of course not! Don't be ridiculous." Fionna crossed her arms.

Marshall smirked. "I can assure you Fionna, I'm as real as it gets." To prove his point, the vampire materialized beside her. He lowered his head until it hovered in front of her ear. "Boo!"

Fionna gave a cry of protest, and quickly batted him away. "Sod off, Marshall!" The blush had yet to go away, so Fionna rubbed her cheeks angrily. Marshall had the gall to laugh. "Why are you always so aggravating?"

"I'm only teasing Fionna, there's no need to get mad."

But she was mad - furious even. She didn't even know why. Her voice was a liar though. "I'm not mad!"

"You look mad."

"I'm not."

"...You sound mad."

And that was all it took for Fionna to lose it. She lunged for him, because maybe if she just hit him he would stop talking. Her fist collided with the side if his face and Marshall took a large intake of air. It sounded painful. Marshall's hand shot to his face while his other attempted to block the range of punches Fionna was sending his way.

"You're so stupid!" she cried, her punches getting less violent and more half done. It got to the point where he was able to grab both of her hands with one of his, essentially stopping her. She began to cry big fat tears, her head buried into his chest.

Marshall Lee hadn't said a word - why wouldn't he speak!? Fionna cried harder.

"Fionna," he finally spoke, worriedly. "What's going on?"

"I'm so confused," she sobbed. "I should hate you, but I don't. I can't even begin to understand you and...and I miss Cake." Fionna refused to meet his eyes, only cried deeper into his chest. Marshall's hand navigated to her head where he held her pressed against him.

"I'm sorry I hit you!" she sobbed harder.

"Its okay," Marshall reassured her. He smoothed down her hair.

And it was okay. Really. Marshall figured that while he hid his demons, Fionna blurted hers out.

Sometimes people break down. Sometimes people can't handle the world.

Fionna was so very human.

.

.

.

The Abadeer family had ruled over the Night-O-Sphere for a very very long time. With their rule came a long list of traditions, one of those being something called a "Trust Ceremony." Now, the practice was established not for ordinary citizens of the realm, but rather among ranks and knights alike. The Abadeers did not fear a revolt, nor did they fear mutiny or betrayal - but certain measures needed to be taken to ensure that the creatures fighting for them were willing to do anything to serve them.

And anything really meant anything.

To die for one's country isn't always as easy as one might think, after all.

So they put in place this ritual. It involved two parties, and between the two, an oath of trust would be taken. Truth would be spilled and lies would be punished and when the two parties exited, a red ribbon of string would be wrapped tightly around the two of them.

Only, the Abadeers had a trick up their sleeves. While the red ribbon belonging to their own body fit snug around their finger, the one belonging their loyal guest would be in a slightly different area.

If I were being frank, I'd say that it fit like a noose.

The Abadeers were terribly evil like that.

.

.

.

"You must be willing to bare your whole soul." Xala told Fionna as she prepared her for the ritual. "Nothing is kept secret. If you do so much as lie, the ritual will fall apart, and you and Marshall will never complete it."

Fionna frowned. "What's the point of this anyway?" she asked.

"Every knight that serves under the royal family must perform this ceremony. It's an insurance that you'll serve them in any way possible."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

Xala sighed. "Its called a trust ceremony for a reason, child. You have to trust your partner - no matter what. Most knights are blinded by some devotion to this sphere and are able to bare themselves easily, but you're different. The thing is, this ritual is quite dangerous."

"Why?" Fionna urged. The adventuress' eyes grew wide.

"Because at the peak of the ritual, a member of the Abadeer family gets to make the terms of the contract."

"Contract?"

"Basically, he will ask that you pledge your allegiance to him, and once you do...he will give you an order. Whatever that order is, you must do exactly as he says."

"E-exactly?" Fionna was feeling nervous. She didn't want to be put under some kind of spell. She didn't want to be forced to listen to anyone.

"Yes." The witch's eyes softened. "I'm sorry Fionna."

There had to be a mistake. Marshall would never control her like that. He would never resort to his mother's level. Right?

Right?

"I'm only telling you this as a warning," Xala said. She rested her hand on Fionna's shoulder and squeezed tightly. "Once he asks you to pledge your allegiance, only then can you get out of it."

"It will be your only chance at escape."

Fionna's heart dropped.

.

.

.

"Are the two of you ready?" Xala asked. Her hand held the doorknob of a closed off room in her house (she had said it was where she conducted her potion making). She had set the room up to be fit for the ritual, as instructed by Marshall. Now the two of them were stood in front of the witch, waiting for the moment where they would be stripped of any and all personal boundaries. Their souls were about to be jars rendered open.

Fionna was terrified; she wondered if Marshall felt the same. His secrets would be joining hers, after all.

"I'm ready if you are," Marshall spoke to her, his red eyes fixed upon her own. Fionna gulped, but set her jaw. This was something she had to do. For the sake of this realm and it's inhabitants - for people like Xala. She would put aside her fears - no, abandon them, like a true heroine. It was her moral duty.

"I'm ready," she replied, her words true and absolute.

With that, Xala opened the doorway to them.

The space before them was void of any furniture. They were to sit adjacent of each other, facing one another head on. The room was darkened, lit only by a small array of candles that marked where they would be sitting, which casted a light over their faces and darkened everything else. On the ground, Xala had littered some kind of glowing blue powder as well.

They took their places.

Fionna wiped her hand nervously on her skirt. She didn't know what to expect, and looking to Marshall for guidance was just as nerve racking as the silence engulfing the room. Truth be told, he looked just as uncomfortable as she did, and if her host was uncomfortable then she could only imagine how the rest of the ceremony was going to go. She bit the inside of her cheek.

"So," they both started, and realizing that they had both just spoken at the same time, instantly closed their mouths. Another spout of silence ensued. Great, Fionna thought, just great.

"We should probably loosen up," Marshall suggested, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Here." He held out his hand.

Fionna stared at it uneasily. "What do you want me to do with that?"

The vampire groaned. "Obviously I want you to take it." Fionna remained like stone. "Come on!"

She bristled. "Wh-why?"

"Because we need to get used to each other's presence, and if we cross this bridge everything else will flow smoothly after. Now take my hand already!"

Fionna reluctantly obliged. "Happy now?" she grumbled. Fionna felt her stomach flop as his thumb ran idly over her skin. Her throat seized up a little. What's going on with me? she thought.

"Very."

The room was still.

"I think," Marshall suggested, "that we should talk."

"Talk?" Fionna asked.

"Yeah, talk. I figure if we just chat then everything will feel less forced and come more naturally. Besides, if we tell some truthful stories about ourselves then we can build up our mana."

"Our mana?" Fionna frowned. "Isn't that for magic?"

"Normally yes, but see that blue powder on the ground?"

"Yeah?"

"We have to charge it up. It's under a spell, you see. The powder reacts to our actions in here and depending on how it correlates to well, trust, the mana inside it begins to build up. Once we have enough, then we can have a great burst of magic to tie our souls together. Xala explained this to you didn't she?"

Fionna clenched her fist. Oh, Xala had explained things to her alright. She just wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

Suddenly, the blue powder began to dim.

Marshall frowned. "That's odd," he said. "We must not be doing this fast enough. Come on, let's begin." The vampire gave her hand a squeeze.

Wearily, Fionna squeezed back.

"So, for a limited time only, I'm letting you ask anything about me," Marshall offered. He gave her lopsided smile. Despite herself, Fionna smiled back.

"Anything you say?" Fionna asked. Marshall nodded. "Alright then, hmm." She tapped her finger against her chin thoughtfully. "Why don't you drink blood?"

Marshall sweat dropped. "Really? That's what you're asking?"

"Yep!"

"Well, it's simple really. I'm vegan."

Fionna blinked. "Vegan?"

"Yes! Is there a problem?"

"No, not exactly..."

"Well, I have a question for you then."

Fionna raised her eyebrow. "Go on."

"Why is your sister a cat?" He peered at her suspiciously.

Fionna let out a laugh. "I guess all my life I thought it was normal."

She adjusted her position - the ground was starting to hurt her butt. Marshall had still yet to let go of her hand, but truth be told, she didn't mind it. Not the way it slid so easily into her own.

"My biological parents abandoned me when I was small," she told him. "I don't even remember what they looked like. I think that...I was in the woods or something and." A sudden flush erupted over her features. Fionna's eyes flashed to Marshall's face, before she quickly darted them away, riveting them to the floor. She couldn't tell him that.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing!" she spoke, a little too quickly.

"Fionna."

"I said it was nothing!"

"You know in order for this to work, you need to be truthful, right?"

Fionna pursed her lips. She really didn't want to say it. Marshall gave her hand a hard squeeze and Fionna groaned. "Fine." She took a deep breath and mumbled the rest of the story.

"I'm sorry, you did what?"

"Ugh! I was in the woods and I went boom boom on a leaf, okay?" She was blushing terribly. "I fell back into it and couldn't get up. I probably spent days there. Everyone who passed me would laugh and point but do nothing to help. It was only when my mom and dad - Cake's parents - came by that I was rescued. My mom picked me up and brought me home and pretty much made me the human child they never had. That's how I became Cake's adoptive sister." Fionna buried her head in her lap so she wouldn't have to face Marshall Lee. Glob, she was mortified.

"Fionna…" Marshall spoke.

"No!"

He sighed in annoyance. "Look, I'm not going to make fun of you. While hearing you say the words "boom boom" was highly entertaining, I'm more excited by the fact that the powder is starting to glow again."

Fionna slowly lifted her head enough to look at the powder around them which was, just as Marshall had said, indeed glowing. She let out a sigh of relief. Then, she felt Marshall's other hand slowly lift her chin up, until she was staring into his eyes: they were a soft rosy hue. He took both of her hands now. "Fionna," he said softly, "stop worrying."

"Okay," she breathed.

"Good. Now ease up."

Easier said than done, Fionna thought petulantly. "Why don't you tell me about your parents then?" she asked, taking a few breaths to calm her nerves. Marshall's back tensed.

"A-alright." He cleared his throat. "My mother, as you know, used to be officially the former ruler of the Night-O-Sphere, before she passed it to me. Now, I'm going to tell you something that...the inhabitants of this sphere are not to know." He met her gaze. "I'm not really King." He gauged her reaction. Fionna's eyes went wide, but she remained silent. Urging him to continue perhaps - Marshall obliged. "Sure, officially I have this title bestowed onto me, but my mother is still running the show. All my life she has been, well, controlling. It's as if I've never been good enough for her.

She wanted a son that could conform easily to her wishes - but I'm not that son. To tell you the truth, I would rather be traveling around Aaa, playing music, or pulling some epic pranks than be forced to attend some royal meeting or go devour the souls of the innocent. I'm not evil - I don't know how she stands that title." Marshall's gaze shifted to the ceiling. He stared at the wooden panels wistfully. "She wasn't always like this."

"Why did she change?" Fionna asked. She squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"I think it had something to do with my dad dying."

Fionna regarded him sadly. She didn't want to press him, but knew it was something both of them had to do. Her own thumb bashfully stroked his hand. "What was your dad like?"

"He was...it's hard to really remember but, sometimes I have these visions. I can't remember his face but I have this memory of the two of us sitting on some old sofa after he had just patched up my knee with a bandaid - I probably scraped it doing something stupid. My father looked...well, he had dark skin and brown curly hair and the best smile. The kind that makes you feel all fuzzy inside." Marshall smiled crookedly. "He also had the most amazing vocals I've ever heard. There was this song he used to sing and…" Fionna watched as Marshall's eyes grew watery. He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.

The blue powder grew brighter, but it wasn't enough.

"Sing it for me," Fionna whispered.

Marshall stuttered, "W-what?"

The adventuress put her forehead against his. She closed her eyes. Please, she thought, I need you to trust me. This moment between the two of us can not last if we only scratch the surface. "Please Marshall? I just want to hear you sing."

Marshall's lip wobbled. "O-okay," he breathed. He didn't have his axe base, and Fionna imagined that it only made him more nervous, but somehow Marshall found his courage. His deep voice rang out throughout the room, clear and confident - nostalgic and forlorn:

"Let's go in the garden, you'll find something waiting, right there where you left it, lying upside down. When you finally find it, you'll see how it's faded, the underside is lighter, when you turn it around." Marshall closed his eyes. "Everything stays, right where you left it. Everything stays, but it still changes, ever so slightly, daily and nightly. In little ways, when everything stays." His last note rang lowly and as he opened his eyes, the pain within them bursted out in little tears. When he saw Fionna looking at him, he attempted to wipe them away, but she held onto his hand.

She would not let him be afraid of his actions. She was not his mother.

"You're a beautiful singer," she told him truthfully, her heart swelling up as the words left her mouth.

Tears were falling faster down Marshall's face. He hiccupped.

"You must have really loved him," she said. Fionna reached up to his face and boldly wiped his face. The wetness smeared across her hand. Marshall could only nod. "It seems to me like your mother did as well. She must have been softer in the past...your father's absence must have taken a huge toll on her. Maybe that's why she lost track of how to raise you - what kind of mother makes her son afraid to cry?" Fionna's stare hardened.

"Fionna?" Marshall asked, his voice watered down.

"Hmm?"

"I think my father was human."

Fionna's jaw went slack. "He...what?"

"My father was human."

Fionna was rendered speechless. She sat down on her butt, eyes wide and mind haywire. She knew his father must have been alive years ago - a thousand even - but hearing word of her own species, after believing for so long that she was the last one...it was surprising to say the least. "Wow," was all she could say.

"Yeah."

A silence ensued, but this time it wasn't so awkward.

"I'm going to tell you one of my biggest secrets," Fionna said, straightforward and assertive. Marshall raised his eyebrows. "Perhaps it's not as heartbreaking as what you just told me, but it's embarrassing."

"Okay," Marshall hid a smile, "go for it."

Fionna took a big breath. "For the longest time I...had a bit of a crush on Prince Gumball."

Marshall snorted.

"What's so funny?" Fionna asked, glaring.

"Oh nothing." Marshall said. "It's just...do you know how painfully obvious that is?"

"W-what do you mean!?" Fionna's face bursted in color. How did he know!? She couldn't believe it.

"Fionna, half the population of Aaa knows that. Hell maybe even everyone - except for Prince Pinky that is."

"I…" Fionna was flabbergasted. "How?"

"It's not as if you try to hide it."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"There's nothing to be ashamed of - Gumball is a very handsome prince." Marshall was trying really hard to hold on his chuckles. "I'm sure many creatures are in your exact position, Fi. You shouldn't be embarrassed either, I mean...it's not as of you carry locks of his hair around."

"..." Fionna sweated under his gaze.

"You don't...do you?"

"W-well...I don't carry it around if that's what you're thinking!"

Marshall looked at her concerned. "Fionna…"

"It's bubblegum!"

"I'm going to drop this conversation Fionna…"

"Me too."

After a while, Fionna felt the subtle curve of Marshall's hand slip into her own again. She was almost amazed at how well it fit. Grey on white. Opposing forces somehow melding together. When Fionna looked up at the vampire, she saw his troubled face. "What's wrong?" she asked, concern edging through her voice.

"Nothing," he answered. He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "You don't still like him, do you?"

Fionna's heart leaped. "I…" Sometimes, Fionna had entertained the idea of possibly still harboring feelings for the prince, but deep down part of her new it was just a little girl crush - one where she'd imagine she was swept away one night to his castle, just the two of them. It was a silly infatuation and definitely one sided. After all, she was younger than him; he was royalty. And maybe his stature had nothing to do with it, but it didn't change the fact that Gumball was definitely someone far out of her reach. Perhaps, deep down in her heart the feeling would never fully go away. Gumball was her first love and it's hard to grow out of that. Sure, she had tried filling that with others before - Flame Prince came to mind, but that was a whole other story filled with her heart getting burned multiple occasions. Needless to say, Fionna had promptly given up on love. Besides, she had a job to do. She didn't have time for...relationships.

Fionna sighed. "I...I care about him deeply, but I don't think there will ever be an us." She met his eyes and saw relief flash across his features.

"Fionna?" he spoke.

"Yes?"

"I used to know Prince Gumball very well."

Fionna watched him carefully. "You did?"

"The two of us were...close. He was one of my first real friends and...I loved him. Very much. My love for him ran deeper than you could imagine." The blue powder slowly grew brighter.

"When you say love…"

"Yes, Fionna it's...it's probably exactly what you're thinking. Prince Gumball and I used to be an item."

Shocked was an understatement for how Fionna felt. She would have never imagined that the two of them were ever a thing. And Fionna would be lying if she said his words hadn't hurt. After all, hearing that one of your life long crushes, whom you thought was almost incapable of loving, had been in a relationship with someone else, felt terrible. Hearing that he had chosen Marshall of all people while he barely even acknowledged her, hurt in ways she couldn't explain. Still, it wasn't her place to judge. Fionna pushed through jealousy enough to ask, "What happened then?"

"We grew apart. Part of that was my fault, or maybe all of it was. The truth is I was scared...scared that we were getting close. The things I've told you in here, I couldn't even bring myself to tell him. All my inner demons, troubles with my family, my problems, I bottled them up and refused to release them. I ran away, Fionna. I didn't speak to him for the longest time. Eventually our paths diverged."

Fionna frowned. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Do you…" Fionna furrowed her eyebrows. "Do you still have feelings for him?"

Marshall sent her a teasing smile. "I care about him deeply." He mirrored her earlier words. "But it's like you said, I don't think we will ever be together. Not now. Now after...everything."

She didn't know why, but Fionna felt instantaneous relief. Somehow the thought of Marshall being involved with someone made her feel...strange. Hearing that he wasn't planning on dating anyone made her feel thankful. What is going on? Fionna wondered.

"He's not the only one I care about," Marshall told her. "I...I care about you too."

Fionna's breath hitched. She felt his eyes on her and thought she may crumble. "C-care in what way?" she asked.

"As in...I want to protect you." His eyes were hooded. "As in...I think I could love you."

Fionna's world broke apart.

Fionna the human had only heard those words from her mom and her dad, and from her sister, Cake. She was not used to hearing them said in a romantic way - not counting Flame Prince of course. But, hearing those same words out of Marshall Lee's mouth...it was terrifying. It was also exhilarating.

But love?

She couldn't help but wonder, why her? Of all people.

Fionna was rendered speechless. When she tried making words, her throat seized up and her tongue tied in knots. She felt at a loss. In all honesty, she didn't know what to think. Did she possibly have feelings for the Vampire as well?

She thought of his hand in her own, and the way his voice sounded when he sang; she thought of the way his lips quirked into a smirk and the different shades of his mercurial eyes; Fionna thought about her own heart, and how it seemed to swell when he was near...at the way her face heated up sometimes at the slightest sound of his voice. Most of all, she thought about the way a shadow had been casted over Marshall Lee and how she wanted to be the light that guided him out of it.

She wanted to protect him.

"I…" Fionna began, her head woozy, "I want to protect you too." Marshall looked hopeful. "If that's love, then I don't know...I just know I care for you." She looked away, blushing. She heard him laugh.

"I don't expect a clear answer, or even for you to know where your heart lies. I just...needed you to know my own heart," he told her. His smile was wide.

Maybe something had gravitated between them, but Fionna found herself pulling Marshall into a hug. The vampire's breath hitched as their skin made contact.

The blue powder glowed even brighter than ever - the room was swimming in its color. The candles around them suddenly blew out too, and a strong smell of incense followed in its wake.

"The ceremony is almost complete," Marshall informed her. "We have to perform one last confession."

Fionna's heart picked up. "Okay."

"I...I think I should be the one to make that confession."

Fionna eyes him carefully. "Alright then."

There was no hesitation. Marshall Lee blurted his words out: "Gumball and I planned everything. He knows of your kidnapping and helped me organize it. He also knows of his role in the prophecy - which is why both of us devised this plan. We needed your help Fionna." A look of guilt washed over his features. "I'm so sorry you didn't know sooner."

And just like that, Fionna broke away from him.

* * *

 **Hello everyone! Thanks once again for reading :) I have a few words to see about this chapter. In regards to Marshall and Gumball's relationship, I was attempting here to cater more to the original series where there are no gender swapped characters. I think that there are strong implications of a romantic relationship between Marceline and Princess Bubblegum and so I imagine in the land of Aaa there would have been a romantic relationship between Marshall and Gumball as well. However, this story is and will continue to be primarily FionnaxMarshall. I ship all three of these pairings but I just really love the ship between Marshall and Fionna which is why it will win out.**

 ***cough* Ahem! Now that that's over with...time for some shoutouts! Thank you An Amber Pen and Deathstarling556 for your lovely reviews! Means a lot.**

 **I hope you all have a wonderful day :)**


	13. Pledges

Today I write to you in hopes that you may remember to breathe. Just breathe.

Are we ever conscious of such a feat? Sometimes no. Sometimes we let life and stress and anxiety run our lives; we let our senses be engulfed by whatever worry we are having or whatever thoughts are bleeding thick and heavy in our minds, weighing us down. We don't let these things go. They plague and hurt and ruin us.

We don't stop anymore to absorb the things worth caring about - its all take and take and claw our way to the next activity in hopes that maybe we will be numb to everything else. We eat. We sleep. We dispose of our wastes. We blink and walk and journey through life almost like zombies. Do things mean anything to us anymore? Do we watch television to appreciate the story being presented, or do we simply let the lights from the screen flash across our faces: kill time.

When was the last time you took the time to stop? To stare at the sky? To dip your feet in lakes or let grass tickle your skin? When was the last time you smiled at your neighbor? The last time you chose to walk instead of taking the bus? When was the last time you tried putting your life on pause to reflect? To realize that things, however difficult, will get better.

We let life take hold of us. We let it fill our minds with the idea that things have to be done fast to make room for the next thing. Do not stop. Do not listen. Just go- _go go go GO_! Does it not tire you? Don't you want to just take a pause and...and breathe?

Just breathe.

Remember, you are alive and well. You are awake. You can let air into your lungs.

You can keep breathing.

.

.

.

Fionna had never felt this sensation before: like her faith in the people around her was just meaningless. She felt shattered, as if her heart was made of glass and she was on a tipping point. She was breaking. She was _falling apart._

And why? Simple. She had been lied to. It was one thing to kidnap her - to make her think that she had been ripped from her life and loved ones and from the _duties to her kingdom_. She had felt hopeless then and terrified. She would never forget the panic of waking up in that cold dungeon prison and thinking _Grob, Cake is going to freak when she realizes I'm gone._ She would never forget the anger she had felt.

And Fionna thought she could forgive Marshall Lee for it.

But hearing that he and Gumball had planned it from the very beginning...did they not trust her to tell her their plan? Was she just a pawn being used in one of their games? Was that fair?

She was hurt. She had just taken a knife storm to the heart and Fionna didn't know how to deal with it.

The adventuress backed away from Marshall Lee, who's concerned face glowed blue from the light of the powder surrounding them. "How could you not tell me?" she whispered, throat constricted and tight. The powder was so bright it hurt her eyes: they had built up enough mana. They didn't have to reveal any more secrets to each other but...Fionna didn't care. She didn't want to complete the ritual anymore. She didn't want to pledge her allegiance to Marshall Lee. Not after... _hearing this._

After all, how could she trust him any more? She had done the same with Gumball and look how that turned out. How was Marshall Lee any different? Pledging her allegiance through this ritual meant he had a free pass to make her do _anything._ Be it following his every order or killing someone. Whatever he made her promise, she would be forced to fulfill it, binded to her pledge by a seal of magic.

 _She would be trapped._

"Fionna _please,_ I know you're angry," Marshall attempted to appease her.

Fionna scoffed, "Angry? I am far from that. I'm...I'm furious! You know, you spit pretty lies about loving me and being over Gumball, but then you say things like...the two of you planned out my capturing and made me think that I had been ripped from my home. I thought I had to betray my kingdom. You made me think I was stripped of my honor! Do you have any idea of how that makes me feel?" Tears welled up in her eyes. "I don't have to sit here and take that."

Marshall's eyes hardened. "You think I lied about loving you?"

"Oh save me the righteous act, Marshall. You and I both know you are not that capable."

Something like hurt flashed across his features. Marshall Lee glared, and Fionna suddenly felt a rush of ice ghost across her skin. "And you and I both know that if I had lied, we never would have built up that mana," he spoke matter of factly. "I never lied to you here."

"Whatever! It doesn't matter how you feel about me. What matters is the fact that the two of you would...betray me like this." She would not let him guilt her.

"We had no choice, Fi! We had to make your capturing believable - so my mother wouldn't find out!"

"You don't think I could have pretended on my own? Do you know all the hardships I've faced since I arrived? You think that was easy on me?"

"You're a hero, Fionna. This stuff is normal for you."

Fionna looked at him incredulously. _The nerve of him!_ "I am still human Marshall Lee. I'm not invincible nor some unfeeling robot. If you would stop being a mega turbo nerd, maybe you could see that." Fionna groaned. "And for the love of Aaa would you stop mentioning your mother every five seconds!? Why are you so scared of her anyway? She's just a bully! She makes you act like someone you aren't, and she fills your head with these crazy ideas that you aren't good enough - _but have you ever stopped to think that she's wrong!?_ Giving into her tyranny is not going to change anything, least of all this Sphere." Fionna dragged her hand down her face. "I am so sick of your excuses! Maybe you should be facing these problems on your own instead of dragging other people into them."

"You don't know what it's like."

"Oh and I suppose Lumpy Space Prince wants to be smooth? Trust me, I know what it's like to feel powerless. I know what it's like to be the only person who truly understands what it's like - hell, I'm the last of my kind right? So if you think for a second I don't know what feeling like a loner is like, you got it all wrong. At least I try fighting my demons."

Now Marshall laughed. "Oh please, you've maybe felt lonely once before, but try a thousand years of it sunshine. You have Cake for Glob's sake. You have a whole kingdom of citizens who adore you. You're loved by everyone. People look at me and their first reaction is to scream."

"Yeah, I have Cake. And when she finds out that the two of you were behind my capturing, she's going to kill you."

An evil smirk danced across Marshall's features, and Fionna never had wanted to wipe something off the face of the earth so much. "How do you know she's not a part of it either, huh?"

Fionna stood up so that she was staring Marshall Lee down. Her fists clenched at her sides. "Because I _know_ my sister. And she would never, ever betray me. Not on her life."

Marshall floated up so that he surpassed her height. He regarded her with disdain, as if greatly disappointed by her naiveness. "You and I both know that betrayal is a disease that spreads quickly and without taking sides. It's only a matter of time before she stabs you in the back too."

Fionna slapped him. Marshall hissed. "I hate you," she seethed.

Marshall cupped his face. "You aren't the first to say that." An almost tangible barrier was forming between them. "And you won't be the last."

.

.

.

Hana Abadeer sat against the red velvet cushion of her throne, her head cradled underneath the palm of her hand and her elbow resting languidly against the armrest. She was dreadfully bored. Marshall Lee was taking his sweet time getting that Fionna girl to pledge her allegiance to him, and honestly it was beginning to unnerve her. Hana needed an army - one led by a general - so that she may attack the Candy Kingdom. She needed it _soon_ for she was getting awfully tired of waiting. Her new rule and power _depended_ on this war.

How else was she supposed to distract Gumball long enough to obtain the gem?

Hana growled. Her son was taking too long, and she did not want to wait any longer. Her dark eyes scanned the room. Below her spanned out a long carpet-covered staircase the color of wine; it lead up to her magnificent throne and was guarded by two soldiers. Their armor glowed a soft orangey hue thanks to the scattered candles splayed across the room. A wicked smile graced her features. "Guards!" she hailed.

"Yes my lady!" the two creatures spoke in unison. Hana licked her lips at their obedience.

"Who among your ranks is the most seediest, _backstabbing_ monster?" Her ruby lips fought back a laugh. Her eyes were dancing.

There was a slight pause, and the guards looked at each other nervously. Hana began tapping a rather long fingernail against her throne, the sound echoing throughout the chamber: she was waiting. It was not wise to keep such a lady waiting. The guards must have realized this, because they quickly spoke together, "That would be Jerkins, my lady."

"Jerkins hmm?" her voice hummed in approval. "Bring him to me."

"Right away!"

It did not take long for them to return. Standing before her was a scraggly looking fellow with blotchy grey skin. His eyes were devoid of any light as if they absorbed any and all color. He had mushrooms growing out of his otherwise bald head and a big mouth that contained a number of sharp brown teeth. His nose was crooked. He looked sickly but kept smiling: there seemed to be a laugh stuck in his throat.

Hana regarded him with a neutral expression on her face. "Jerkins," she greeted.

"My lady," said demon returned, flourishing a respectful (but most likely mocking) bow. "Always a pleasure to be in the presence of such a...diabolical creature such as yourself."

Hana smiled. "I'm flattered."

"I do aim to please."

"Well I would hope so!" Hana's smile dropped. She acquired a business-like tone for her next words. "I know you serve under Marshall Lee now, who I am sure you would follow to your death like any other trustworthy knight." She paused to let her insinuation hang in the air.

"But of course," Jerkins drawled. His own face erupted into a smile, cracking his lips and almost releasing that cackle lodged in his throat. His irony was delicious.

"And I'm sure," she continued, "that he has asked you most demandingly to stay out of his more...personal affairs."

"Oh most definitely my lady."

"Yes well, I understand that I am simply a former ruler of this realm, but I was hoping that you could do me a bit of a favor? You see, I am simply worried about my son." She put on her most desperate voice. "I can't imagine where he could be right now. If only there was someone out there who could search for him - make sure he's alright." Her eyes flashed to Jerkins'. "While I'm sure our graceful King is more than capable, a mother still worries. Do you think that you could be a doll and just...check on him?" Her eyes were screaming something else.

Jerkins smiled wickedly. "I see...but of course." The demon sighed though, and went to work on admiring his chipped and rather, erm, _long_ nails. "It's just, I'm hoping a wicked demon such as yourself would understand that there is a certain form of payment that must be adhered to."

Hana cackled. "Jerkins, _darling._ I will most certainly make it your while."

Jerkins' lips cracked as he smiled. "Perfect."

"Marshall last contacted me somewhere in the east - I'm sure you'll find him there."

"The east huh?" Jenkins thought for a moment. "Why, I believe that's Xala's realm." The demon nodded. "This will be over quickly."

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.

.

A dark shadow flitted across the many terrains that made up Night-O-Sphere soil. It was an ominous shadow, one that was unrelenting in its search, covering nooks and crannies and places where darkness bled thick into the earth. There were moments of relief for some creatures of the sphere when the shadow passed, for it was heading away from them: toward the east, some might say.

This kind of shadow was known well here; this kind of shadow was sent by the Abadeer family.

It was an omen of deliverance, usually to one's doom.

And it was coming fast.

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.

.

Xala stood with her ear to the door where Marshall Lee and Fionna stood behind. She couldn't hear much of anything besides muffled sounds, some of which were louder than others. She hoped the two of them weren't fighting, but then again, a smaller part of her hoped they were - maybe then Fionna could get out of her deal with the vampire. While the witch had agreed with the fact that Marshall had changed for the better and really did have good intentions, she knew that at the end of the day he was still performing an Abadeer tradition. She wasn't sure she could ever trust such a process.

Suddenly, a strident crash broke through Xala's thoughts, causing her to jump a mile in her sandals. Her heart sped up something wickedly. Ever so carefully she directed her attention to the living room where standing in full Night-O-Sphere glory was none other than one of Hana Abadeer's henchmen.

Xala screamed.

 _Well,_ she tried to, but the demon had already closed the distance between them, covering her mouth with his hands and shushing her. I'm sure you have already guessed who this demon was.

Jerkins loosened his hold on her so that she could speak, but repositioned himself so that her arms were tied behind her, essentially rendering her immobilized. "What are you doing here?" she choked out, fear coursing its way through her every bone.

"Now now," Jerkins leered, his voice like bitter cold, "let's not play stupid, shall we? You my sweet know perfectly well why I'm here." When she did not answer, Jerkins tightened his hold on her. "Where's Marshall Lee and his general?" His scowl was deep.

Xala felt like she might faint at any moment. She had to stay strong though: for Fionna's sake. "I don't know what you're talking about."

" _Bullshit!_ " Jerkins hissed. He bared his sharp teeth and his breathing increased. "I am not here to play games!" He threw her against the floor without warning, and jabbed his foot against her back, like a hunter claiming his kill. The old witch cried out in pain. "Don't think I haven't noticed his scent: he's been here." Jerkins raised his face, pausing.

He sniffed.

"Wait a minute," he spoke. A few minutes passed before he was able to smile widely. Evil was engraved on his lips. "No, no it's too strong for him to have merely dropped by." Jerkins made sure their eyes met before he continued. "He's still here." Oh, but Jerkins wasn't finished yet. "Not only this, it looks like he has a little friend with him." The demon gave a look of disgust. "I hate the smell of humans."

Xala scoffed, "Don't act like you've ever smelled a human before you-"

"Silence!" Jerkins roared. He moved his foot to her neck. "Do you want me to press harder?" Xala didn't answer. "Atta girl. Looks like you know who's on top right now." He moved his face close to her ear. "And trust me, that floor is going to be your best friend for a while now."

"What do you want with them?"

"What do I want? My dear, it is not what _I_ want, it is what _Hana_ wants. And you and I both know that whatever Hana wants, Hana gets."

"Well maybe Hana has gotten her way for too long now."

Jerkins looked like he ate something sour. "I would watch my tongue if I were you. I am not above telling Hana just how a commoner like yourself feels. Now before you give me enough lip to send your heinie straight to the royal flusher, you had better start talking." Jerkins applied more pressure with his foot, and Xala squirmed.

"They're somewhere in this house, but you'll never reach them."

"Oh?" Jerkins pulled out an enchanted piece of jewelry. He quickly put it on Xala and suddenly her body was magnetized to the floor. She couldn't move.

"H-hey!"

"You stay here, and don't move a muscle!" Jerkins cackled.

Xala struggled against her confinement, but to no avail. It didn't matter to Jerkins, who was more busy ripping apart Xala's home, digging his claws into various bits of her furniture for no other reason than to just be a mega jerkwad. He pushed over her coffee table, knocked a glass off of a side table, and cut open her throw pillows. Xala could do nothing but curse him. Finally, when he had finished, the demon began perusing the doors.

"Come out come out wherever you are!" he leered. He had a very ugly smile plastered to his face. Jerkins walked ever so carefully to the door where, unbeknownst to him, Fionna and Marshall lay behind. He reached for the door knob.

"I'm warning you," Xala reproached, "you can't go in there."

"Watch me."

"Im serious!"

"Woman!" Jerkin's voice clawed at Xala's ears. A wave of ice wrapped around her frame. "You had better shut your trap. I'm not sure if it is clear to you, but this is _royal_ business. As a citizen of this sphere you are obligated to do as I say, otherwise you're going to answer to Hana Abadeer. And trust me, that demon is not as lenient as I."

With that, Jerkins turned attention to the door in front him, reaching for the handle and turning.

Or at least he tried to.

Xala's warnings had been no joke, for as soon as Jerkins' hand made contact with the door, an explosive burst of blue light pushed him back, sending his body straight into the wall behind him. The demon screeched in pain.

"What," he seethed, shakily collecting himself off of the floor and sending a heated glare straight for Xala, "was that?" His eyes flickered to his hand - it was smoking.

Xala began shaking in fear. She quickly spoke, "I told you...you can't go in there - the door is hexed. No one comes in or out of the room until the ritual is completed or canceled by the party inside. I'm sorry!"

"Undo the hex."

"I can't."

"Undo it!"

"I told you, I _can't!_ "

Jerkins took two short strides before he was directly above her. His heel dug into her neck. "Then you leave me no choice," he told her. He pushed harder. "I can see now that Marshall is performing the ritual as required, but there is something else going on here too - _I can sense it._ No hex is needed for that ritual...you did that yourself." His eyes darted across her features. "The question is why?" Xala trembled against his hold. "What exactly are you hiding?"

Xala said nothing.

"Alright then," Jerkins sighed. The demon grabbed Xala and hoisted her over his back; she still could not move. "If you won't tell me what the three of you are hiding, then there's only one person who will make you." He smiled. "And I think you and I both know who that is."

It wasn't long before Jerkins fled the house with his newly acquired hostage. He had one goal in mind: he would get the witch to talk.

She would have no choice.

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.

.

"Oh so you're giving me the silent treatment now. Is that it?" Marshall drawled, coming up behind Fionna and sneering down at her. He was angry - _Glob_ he had never been so angry! "You know it won't affect the mana, right? We built all of it up." She had been ignoring him for the past ten minutes. He was sick of it.

"I don't give a sugar drop about your mana!" Fionna fired back. She wheeled around to face him, her bunny ears flopping as she did so. The adventuress' face was scrunched up, and normally Marshall would have thought it were cute, but under the circumstances it only made him feel guilty. _Damn her._

" _Look_ , I get that what Gumball and I did was bad, but it's not as if I can take it back. I made a mistake! I understand that. Fionna," he placed a hand against her shoulder, the warmth of her body twisting his stomach, " _please."_ Their eyes met, and a wave of hurt washed over Fionna's features. She shrugged him off.

Increasing the distance between them, Fionna turned her back toward the vampire. Marshall's heart dropped. "As a hero, I'm always expected to forgive people, because apparently that's the noble thing to do...but I'm sick of it! If you think I like being stepped on then you're wrong!"

"I never meant to hurt you!"

"Well you did." Fionna sighed. "And as much as it pains me... I am going to forgive you." Marshall looked up, hopeful. "But," Fionna added, "that doesn't mean I have to associate with you. It doesn't mean that we're friends." Fionna sounded like her heart was breaking. She shakily continued, "And it doesn't mean that I'm completing this ritual."

Marshall fell silent.

"I forgive you Marshall. Happy now?" Fionna finished.

Marshall shook his head vehemently and quickly hovered in front of her, searching Fionna's eyes. "Why won't you complete the ritual?" he asked.

"Because...whatever you say after I pledge allegiance to you I will be bound to. If...if you tell me that I am to be your personal bounty hunter and take up a life of murder - I'll have to do that. This magic is binding."

"Oh how ironic! Funny you should have doubts about trusting me after...well after something called the _trust ceremony_. Fionna, how can i convince you that I've changed?"

"You can't...and that's final."

Marshall's face dropped. It was the first time she saw him looking like he wanted to cry.

"Fionna," he pleaded, "listen to me. Just hear me out. After if...if you want to call off the ritual then - then fine! But before you do that can I at least say some things?"

Fionna crossed her arms over her chest and regarded the vampire with a look of reluctance. Warily, Fionna nodded her head. She spoke, "Alright."

Marshall took a deep breath. "You think that I am in the wrong for not telling you the truth - that much I understand - and in the past I wouldn't have gave two gumdrops about it. Only, what you don't seem to understand is that I've changed since meeting you. Fionna, you've made me a better person!"

Fionna couldn't help it: her heart fluttered at his words. She hated that he still found ways to worm himself into her heart.

"And,' he continued, "if I had known how much it would have hurt you, then I would have never lied to you. Please, don't be mad at Gumball either. I was the one who urged him not to tell you." Marshall sighed. "You're right, I let my mother control me. She walks all over me and I'm too scared to do anything about it. Hearing about this prophecy was the first time I had envisioned a plan to finally give her what she deserved, and when push came to shove, I panicked. I became paranoid. So yeah, I needed everything to be convincing, and your capturing was the first step in that. Yes it was unfair to you, and yes you have every right to hate me for it, but...If I had known you before all of this, I swear I would have done it differently."

Marshall strode over to Fionna and placed his hands on her shoulders, urging her to find his eyes. His own visage bore a look of such intensity that Fionna's heart skipped a beat.

Marshall couldn't stop talking, "I'm not good with people; I lie and cheat and skirt around emotions. I lock my own heart up and damn anyone who tries to unlock it. I am selfish and uncontrollable and I have problems with committing to people. When someone I care about hurts me I...I sink into myself."

Fionna listened without speaking for what seemed like an eternity. He talked about his past and his present self, about the people he's known and those who he has been forced to part with - due to a thousand years or falling out. He spoke of old relations - such as Simone, The Ice Queen, who he regarded as a mother figure, who went insane and abandoned him and how even though it wasn't her fault, he was never able to find closure with it until decades later. Marshall told her about his old girlfriend Ashley and how things ended badly - how the scars she left were still there and were not going away anytime soon. He went on about countless times where he had tried and tried to find happiness but failed time and time again, and how he may have felt lost before, but nothing had compared to the fear of losing her.

"It's just...not a moment has gone by since I met you where I haven't thought to myself, maybe I can change. Maybe things will get better." Marshall Lee finished, finding her gaze and holding it head on. "If you don't want to associate with me that's okay, but at least accept my thanks."

And Fionna understood.

All those times where Fionna had promised she would protect Marshall Lee came spilling out from her heart in a tsunami wave of emotion and Fionna finally broke down. She cried out, "Enough already!" The adventuress wrapped her arms around Marshall's middle and squeezed hard enough that his breath caught. She buried her head in his chest. "I...I was wrong. What kind of hero am I if I abandon someone like you? You're not your mother - you feel things others don't! Marshall Lee, you're learning to be a better person, and who am I to stand in your way? I can't believe I almost strayed from my promise." She looked up at his red eyes and pushed his hair back with her hand. Their gaze was as steady as a rock. "I will protect you; If this pledge is the only way to do it then...so be it." She would trust him; she would honor the ceremony.

Fionna unraveled herself from Marshall's body. He stared at her awestruck. "I, Fionna the Human, pledge my allegiance to you, Marshall Lee." The blue dust around them grew brighter than before. It was beginning to drown the room in light. "May his next words be my command."

All of the light in the room began to encircle Marshall Lee's body. It was time for him to act. Like a true King, he spoke with conviction, "As King of Vampires and ruler of this sphere, I, Marshall Lee, demand that you, Fionna the Human, serve as my loyal friend. You are free to defy me. You are free to turn away at any moment. All that I ask is for you to consider me an ally, and as a person of trust. At least until this war is over." The vampire smiled. "This is my command."

With that, the last of the remaining light absorbed itself into Marshall's body, and the room was encased in darkness.

She had been right to trust him.

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.

.

When the dust settled and the room was no longer drenched in blue, Fionna was able to regard Marshall evenly. For a long while, no words would come her way.

"Fionna I-" Marshall started but was cut off by Fionna shortly after.

"Wait wait wait wait! Just...let me process this." Fionna took a deep breath. "You didn't make me your knight." Her eyes bore into his own, searching for an explanation. "W-wasn't that the whole point of this ritual!?"

Marshall rolled his eyes. "No dumb dumb," he spoke, "the whole point was for you to pledge your allegiance to me, which you did. The details of the allegiance came later." He smirked. G _reat, he's back to normal,_ Fionna inwardly groaned.

"So I essentially just _pledged_ to be your friend?"

"Correction: you pledged to be my _ally."_

"Hey, you said friend, buster!" Fionna pointed her finger at him accusingly.

"Why? Were you hoping to be more?" The vampire wagged his eyebrows and laughed heartily when Fionna's face erupted in color.

She spluttered, "Th-that isn't even remotely my wish! You're the one who...who, _ugh!"_

"Okay okay, _look,_ yes this ritual usually involves knightdom, but after everything that has happened I figured...well, it wasn't fair for me to do so. For one thing, I don't want to take you away from your position as a _Knight of the Righteous Order,_ but considering all of this is mainly a ruse for my mother, well, I'm sure you can easily pretend on your own. After all, you are a key part in the plan."

Fionna's heart soared. "Thanks Marshall." A happy blush spread across her cheeks.

Marshall scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah well…" he coughed, "you're welcome." His red eyes found her own. "If anyone should be thanking someone its me. You've done so much."

"Well you _should_ be thanking me!" Fionna smiled triumphantly. "Heck, I should get a badge of honor for having to put up with your antics. I must be a saint, I-" All of a sudden Fionna felt a pair of familiar arms wrap around her frame. Marshall Lee was hugging her. Fionna stumbled back a bit in surprise, but the vampire did not relinquish his hold on her. "M-marshall?" She felt suddenly aware of her increasing heartbeat. His head was buried in the crook of her neck.

"Thank you," she heard him murmur. The sound resonated within her bones: a steady mantra.

 _Thank you. Thank you. Thank you._

This was why Fionna was a hero. This was why she vowed to protect others. The gratitude and love they showed her was worth more to her than anything.

Fionna trailed her hand up to the back of his head, slowly running her fingers through the tufts of his jet black hair. She smiled. "No thanks needed...now, we better check in on Xala."

"Five more minutes…"

" _Marshall!"_

"Alright alright." The vampire untangled himself from within her arms. "But don't act like you didn't enjoy it." He sent a wink her way.

Fionna glared. "Just move!"

The two of them began exiting the room. Only, they weren't expecting what was waiting for them on the other side.

The placed had been trashed as if broken into...and Xala was gone.

* * *

 **Hello once again everyone! Sorry for such a late update. First off i would like to thank the reviewer An Amber Pen for sticking by this story and always dropping such nices reviews. I dont believe i replied to your last one but my sentiment still stands. Sorry about that! Also i would like to say that this is the thirteenth chapter...which i am publishing on friday the 13th...this does not bode well, does it?**

 **Anyway! Have a good one :) until next time**


	14. Queendom

Am I wrong to say that the land of Aaa is living?

This seems odd right? To personify the world, as if the earth is breathing and listening the same way that we do. You may think of me as ludicrous to assume that the place we call home has just a much soul as the rest of us, maybe more so.

It's just...the way I see it, the land of Aaa works in mysterious ways, and more often than not, it's almost as if it _knows_. When the Ice Kingdom is subject to the winter's mighty end, there is always a drop in the temperature in _just the right way_ to allow its snow creatures to stay in tact. And when the lava beds resting in the south begin to bubble, there is some invisible barrier that keeps them from seeping into territories just within their reach. Even the Night-O-Sphere, which craters itself deep within the earth and houses darkness thick enough to hide its people within its folds, seems to to thrum with some kind of heartbeat. It whispers that it's alive; it tells Aaa that it is listening.

I bet you're wondering, if Hana does manage to best Fionna and mold Aaa with her hands, will that change?

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Running a Kingdom, Hana Abadeer could admit, was not as grand as she made it out to be. It was different in the beginning, when citizens were scarce and the land was more treacherous, when all it took to rouse people from their stupors was a little trick of the tongue: charm speak. All it required was a little bit of tainting the upper world and convincing people that she could lead them toward a better path.

She had put forth her proposition so eloquently: _the world above treats our kind like the plague - as if we are freaks of nature made to be screamed at - does it not unnerve you? Are you not sickened at the prospect of breathing the same air as these cretins? These fools!? Follow me, my children, for below us lies a beautiful expanse of territory just waiting to be cultivated by our kind. There, we will no longer be afraid of who we are, and once we expand our kingdom, we will gain the strength to wreak havoc on those up above who dare question our worth. I will be your guiding hand. I will lead you to greatness, to power - to worth. Join me! Free yourselves from the burdens of the outside world._

She had been worshiped. She had gained their trust so willingly and it was then she began paving her kingdom, a crown of gold sat proudly against her head. She was Queen. Anyone who questioned her rule would be silenced.

And for the longest time, she was content.

Now however, now she saw how unbelievably bored she was. She wanted more. Her kingdom was not perfect, and the world above her made a kind of animal rage fester within her. She wanted its people crushed. She would make it so.

All she needed was that damn amulet!

Hana growled. She sat up from her bed and began pacing around her bedroom restlessly, her black hair loose and grazing her shoulders, messy from running her claws through the strands. Her private quarters were the only place she allowed herself to lose composure like this. She would never let someone see her in such a disarray.

A knocking at her door broke her from her thoughts. A snarl sat teetering against her lips. "What in Glob's name is so important that you disturb me?" she demanded, straightforward and brooking no argument. She wanted an answer. No excuses.

The feeble voice behind the door made her want to dig her nails into her skin. _Grow some backbone,_ she thought nastily. "M-my lady," the guard called, "I'm sorry to disturb you b-but we have the witch."

Hana let a wicked smile grace her lips. "Excellent. Bring her to one of the holding cells. I will be there shortly," she ordered. Hana waited for the guard's 'affirmative' before turning her attention back toward her bedroom's expanse. Her eyes fell onto a large full-length mirror in the back of the room. Her reflection stared back. Hana grimaced. "Look at yourself," she admonished, "your composure is unsightly!" Her hair was in disarray, her clothing rumpled, and her eyes drooping. This was not the way a person of royalty was supposed to present herself. She was supposed to be poised and collected.

She hadn't been that way for a while though.

Maybe she was uncertain about the future, and about securing the amulet. While Marshall was making progress on capturing a worthy knight, it didn't change the fact that Prince Gumball had powerful knights himself, and more than that, knew how to keep a secret buried well away from the prying eyes of others. If he did the same with the amulet, then Hana would never find it, not when Gumball was prepared to take it to his grave.

That is why her plan had to work.

If there was one thing Gumball vowed to protect more than anything in the world, it was his citizens. Putting them in danger through the advent of a war meant that when Hana won, Gumball would have no choice but to do anything to ensure their safety. Even if that meant handing over the amulet.

The plan was perfect, and she should be content with everything. However, something was rubbing her the wrong way. It was Marshall. Her son was acting strange as of late, and sure, the boy had always been a bit out of sorts, but taking forever to secure a knight, not going forth with the trust ceremony soon enough, and landing in the realms of Xala (who was hiding something according to Jerkins) was just plain suspicious.

Hana sighed. She was getting tired: tired of being in this constant state of unrest. She needed action - needed her plans to go unperturbed, smoothly, and seamless. She needed Marshall Lee to shape up and become the son she raised him to be.

Her eyes flickered to her nightstand where a frame stood, wooden and small, encasing an old photograph of someone from her past. "You probably hate me, don't you?" she asked the person in the photo, her frown deeply set into her features. "I'm doing this because I have no other choice! This world is _flawed_. It took you away from me - from your son! Do you not see?" Her face crumpled. "I need to change it." Hana Abadeer wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. She would not cry. She could not afford it.

With as much composure as she could manage, Hana Abadeer calmly walked toward the picture of Marshall Lee's father. For a moment she paused. Then, she pushed the frame down on the table, until she could no longer see his damned smile.

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.

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Xala had never been so scared in her entire life.

She knew of the Abadeer castle - had stared at the blackened architecture stark against the blood red sky, had seen its presence loom over the kingdom all mighty and proud, and imagined upon countless occasions just what might lie behind its creaking drawbridge - but never had she thought it would have turned out like this. She was in a holding cell. Xala was buried deep within the bowels of the castle, chained to a dungeon wall, and the witch wasn't sure if she was going to make it out alive. Her old bones shook terribly.

The worst part of it all? Jerkins was her warden.

The demon regarded her smugly, a wicked smirk plastered on his blotchy skin. "Look at you," he taunted, "you must feel right as rain in that cell." Xala refused to meet his gaze, but if anything that only spurred him on more. "Grod, you're going to wish you never put a jinx on that damn door."

"Why does it matter?" Xala asked, her voice shaking. "Your precious King was performing the ritual, no? So what if I was giving him and Fionna some space? A bit of security?"

Jerkins scoffed."A bit of security my ass." He rolled his empty looking eyes. "You were hiding something you dirty old bat, and you're going to tell me what."

"Maybe the hex was for me so I wouldn't come in. What if Marshall made me put it there so I wouldn't disturb him? Maybe he threatened me."

"Those are a lot of maybes for a woman claiming her story's true."

Xala fell silent.

Jerkins stretched his arms behind his head. His eyes never left her. "Hana doesn't play nice you know. Neither do I. Once you start learning that no one in this realm is here to be friends, only then will you survive. I mean _honestly,_ trying to side with Marshall Lee and the outsider?" He let out a long whistle. "You have no idea what your naivety will cost you."

"That kind of attitude will put this sphere in ruin."

"This has always been our realm's way of thinking! If anyone is putting us at risk it's you!" Jerkins leered at her. "I can't wait to see what Hana has instore for you. She'll make you talk whether you want to or not. She always does!"

The witch turned away from him, her face growing wistful. "I know."

.

.

.

"Hello Xala, darling," Hana drawled, taking a seat in front of the witch's holding cell. Her smile was artificial. "I'm so happy you decided to join us here."

Xala shook. Her fingers clawed at the dungeon floor as if to hold onto something. She wanted to scramble away, to close her eyes and never see the bloodied gaze of Hana Abadeer: a woman bent on destroying everything Xala held dear. The demon was terrifying. Her smile was stretched and toothy, baring sharpened daggers that hid a slithering silver tongue behind them. Her eyes were striking, beautiful too, but not in a comforting way: they held pits of fire and unkempt spite begging to be released. She was looking at Xala smugly, but underneath the emotion Xala knew Hana was peeved. She wanted to know what Xala was hiding.

Xala gulped.

"You're not much of a talker, are you?" Hana asked, leaning closer to Xala's proximity. Metal bars separated them, but Xala could still feel Hana's breath on her face. The witch shuddered. "I do hope we can fix that."

"Please," Xala spoke wearily, "your heinous, I don't know what your henchman told you but-"

"What he told me?" Hana cut her off. She narrowed her eyes at the witch. "While I appreciate your respect Xala, you should know a lot about what my loyal guard briefed me on. Where should I begin?" She tapped her finger against her chin, black nail polish gleaming from the dim lighting above. "Maybe how you were hosting Marshall Lee and his knight, offering them a place of solitude while they conducted their ritual, which under any normal circumstance should have been fine. Respectable even. I would even go as far as to say you were serving your realm with the act. However, you made one grave mistake Xala. Do you know what that was?"

"I...I-"

Hana slammed her heeled boot against the ground. The sound echoed throughout the room. "You, my _dear citizen,_ were afraid. You were scared that what you were doing - what those two were speaking of - was taboo. Is this not true?"

Xala fell silent; Hana didn't like that. She reached a hand through the metal bars and grabbed hold of Xala's chin, applying just enough pressure to make the witch squirm.

Hana continued her speech, "Now why would Marshall Lee and Fionna be hiding something? Why would their secrets, however deep, be something that needed to be kept away from prying eyes? This realm is not known for its morals. It's not as if anyone would have cared if the two of them were evil straight to their cores. We revel in that, no? Everyone here has a bit of darkness - even you." Hana applied more pressure, until tears rose in Xala's eyes. "So that puts forth the question: what exactly are they hiding?" Her words were said through clenched teeth, more spiteful with every syllable.

"N-nothing," Xala forced out.

"Wrong answer!"

Xala never saw it coming. One moment she was beneath Hana's fingertips, and the next, she was pressed against the back wall of her cell, face smashed painfully against its cold surface. Darkness filled the room, or maybe that was just Hana's presence. She had somehow entered the cell, not through magic (Xala would know) but through her demonic powers. Shadow travel perhaps? Xala wasn't sure. She was more focused on the fact that Hana's hand was digging into the back of her neck, _squeezing_. Xala's vision was blurring.

"You're going to tell me," Hana demanded, "tell me everything. For starters, who is this Fionna girl, and why are you protecting her?" When Xala didn't answer, Hana grabbed hold of one of the witch's arms and forced it behind her back. Hana lowered her head to speak straight into Xala's ears, as if her words would somehow ring clearer. "I'm not going to ask again."

A bead of sweat trailed down Xala's face, her throat constricting. She was frozen - petrified. Hana's grip felt like fire. As much as she wanted to remain silent, the witch knew that she had to speak. If she didn't, who knew what kind of horrors Hana would commit. So with as much willpower as she could muster, Xala choked out, "She's no one!" Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. "Just some s-silly human." For a second, Xala felt Hana's grip loosen. It was brief, but it only took that much time for Xala to realize that something within Hana snapped.

"What did you say?" the demon asked, her voice shaking. Was it fury that made her sound that way, or something else? Why did she sound so...so...so broken?

And then Xala was slammed to the floor, hard. Her forehead was knocked into the concrete first, followed by her nose and mouth which was worse by the fact that it was open - teeth clanked against the floor painfully, causing one of them to chip. Blood gushed from her nose and lip. Xala felt as if her world was turning.

And then...she saw Hana's face looming over her.

Anguish was probably the most prominent emotion swimming in the demon's eyes. It was such an unexpected sight, to see such sadness on a creature bred from anger and contempt. Xala had only ever seen Hana composed, angry, or grinning terribly with mirth, but this? This was almost worse. This was pure bottled up grief.

"She's human!?" Hana screeched, her hands flying up to her black tresses and pulling them, tearing piece by piece out of her once immaculate bun. "That's impossible - it can't be! How!? They were wiped out! Every last one of them should be dead!" She was hysterical.

"I-I," Xala wheezed. Blood was trailing down her face and dripping onto the floor.

"Shut up! Shut up shut up _shut up_!" Hana let out a sound that was positively animal. The former queen's body began to morph, until she resembled something out of a nightmare. Her head grew, taking the form of a bulbous green blob that bore gelatinous pincers at the end of her chin. Her mouth shifted vertically, teeth jagged and yellow, its size large enough to cut her face in two. A pair of yellow horns emerged violently out from the top of her head and below her neck, her innards became bared before Xala, oozing intestines spilling from their cage. Xala shrieked. The hell-demon (for this is what Hana really was) took Xala by the neck and hoisted her into the air.

Xala felt as if she was standing on the threshold of a heart attack. Shock chilled her to the bone. She was staring at death right in the face. This was it: this was how she would die.

"I will reap your soul," Hana spoke, her voice a poison dart seeping into the witch's skin. "I will take from you everything, and no amount of magic will save you. You will die, but you will not travel to a place of rest, no no no; you will remain on the edges of purgatory begging for your release. After all, an empty corpse without soul has no place. And no one will mourn you. You will die alone, and you know who's hand is about to make sure this happens?" Hana began to wrap her hands around Xala's throat. "You belong to me, witch. So tell me. Tell me everything."

And in the midst of terror, Xala folded.

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It was night time in the sphere, not that it was easy to tell (after all, darkness was prominent throughout the land, day and night). The castle seemed more quiet at this time though, and Hana usually spent her evenings in reflection. She had plans: large schematics over which she played out ploys and actions to better the sphere. She had war strategies to conduct, demons to corral, and correspondences with other spheres to undergo. She was a busy woman. However, tonight was different; tonight she learned her sphere's dirty little secret.

There was a prophecy.

How ill it spoke of her! Claiming she would lead the sphere into even more darkness. Sure, _it was true,_ but it didn't need to be so blunt about it. It certainly didn't need to rant about how it needed saving - she was doing the sphere a favor. She was bettering it! How dare it act as if anyone had even the slightest chance of standing in her way.

Hana was always one step ahead.

She was thankful Xala informed her of the prophecy, but not just that. The witch had also told her where Fionna fit into the equation. Hana clenched her fists. That human girl. She was apparently one of Gumball's knights, and her presence in this sphere right at the time of war with The Candy Kingdom did not bode well. Gumball was trying to one up her.

...no, not just him. Marshall Lee as well.

Her own flesh and blood was betraying her! She always knew that he was close with the Prince, but to go against her - his own mother!? Now that was evil. Hana wasn't proud either. The biggest problem with the whole situation was that Gumball himself was supposed to give her the amulet. Strange, because he certainly knew of the prophecy and what it entailed, and there was no way in hell he would ever do so willingly. Hana frowned. It was confusing to say the least.

Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe, it would happen for a reason. Yes...that was it! Hana smiled. She had something that Fionna and her son did not: the upper hand. They didn't know that she knew of the prophecy, and Marshall Lee didn't know that she knew he was betraying her. That meant, she could use this knowledge to her advantage. In other words, maybe she could use the prophecy in her plans. She would make sure it would come true and in doing so, make sure it would end in her favor as well.

But first, she had a few things to take care of.

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"You wanted to see me, my Queen?" Jerkins asked, walking into her throne room with his lips watering (it was pay day, and the demon knew it).

Hana's eyes flitted to his figure, her mouth tight in a frown. She was not amused. With great disinterest, she threw him a sack of gold coins, and along with the money, two frosted eels. The eels were a delicacy in the kingdom - Hana never saw the appeal for them, but if they made her guards happy then she had less gold to give to them at the end of the day. Still, watching Jerkins wolf the things down was not a pleasant sight. "Are you quite finished?" she asked him, a tinge of annoyance bleeding from her tongue.

"Yes. Please excuse me, my lady," Jerkins apologized, picking his teeth. His sleazy smile did not do his words justice.

"You've gotten your pay now, and I'm sure you'd like to spend all of it on that surface level apple pie all of you guards keep gushing about, but your job is not over."

Jerkins grin widened. "How may I be of service my queen?"

"Can you change form, Jerkins?"

The demon nodded. "I would say I am skilled in the art of transformation, yes."

"Good. You must take Xala's place for a while."

The smile Jerkins usually wore fell flat. "What?"

"You heard me. Look, Marshall and his little friend," Hana spat out the words with venom, a scowl forming on her features "are going to get suspicious if Xala is gone too long. Soon they'll expect us. You must find them and relieve their suspicions."

Jerkins spluttered, "You want me to take that old bat's form!? Do you even know how many wrinkles-" he was instantly cut off by a firm look from Hana. When she wanted to, that woman could be really scary. "I mean, but of course my queen."

"Glad you see it my way. Oh yes, and one more thing, Jerkins. I'm sure that you, being the idiot that you are, left Xala's home a complete and utter mess, not even taking the time to cover your tracks. In other words, Fionna and Marshall Lee are going to think Xala was kidnapped. I cant have them looking for her - I need them here." Hana lowered her eyes, tapping a finger rhythmically against her throne."You could have just left a fake note and all of this would have been avoided. Instead, you've gone and wrecked everything." The former queen sighed. "Well, never mind that. You're going to fix it. All you have to do is set up a situation in which Fionna can play her little hero card. Do you follow me?"

Jerkins' smile resurfaced. "You mean I can beat the stuff out of the human as much as i want?"

"Of course, just as long as she thinks she is fighting for the safe return of Xala." Hana mirrored Jerkins' grin. "However, I hear she's a tough cookie to crack. Consider this her test."

"Can I bring some friends?"

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.

.

Fionna looked up at Marshall Lee's face, her eyes searching his for some kind of answer. Xala's home had been broken into, her belongings thrown everywhere, and she was nowhere to be found. It had happened right under their noses too. Fionna felt like screaming. If she had just gotten through the ceremony sooner instead of fighting with Marshall the whole time, maybe it could have been avoided.

Fionna straightened her shoulders. She started walking toward the front door, eyeing Xala's umbrella stand where she could see a few hilts sticking out - she would need a sword if she wanted to get the witch back. However before she could make her way over there, she felt Marshall Lee's hand pull her toward him.

"Where are you going?" he asked, careful to steady her before she ran into his chest.

"Where do you think!?" she fired back. "We have to find Xala!" Fionna unhooked her arm from his grip. Maybe she was being irrational, but she couldn't just sit by and let Xala be taken away.

"I get that, but you can't just rush into something like this. I mean, do you even know who took her? Hell, you don't know even know where you are on a map, and you expect to blindly walk through the front door and magically know your way? Think a little."

A heated blush crept up Fionna's face. "W-well I can't just sit here!" She crossed her arms over her chest. "Besides, maybe they haven't gotten far. We can still catch them!"

"Fionna just calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down!

"Why are you so angry at me? Look I want to find her just as much as you, but I wasn't the one who took her!"

"I'm not angry at you!" Fionna's voice broke. Marshall Lee fell silent at her outburst, and the adventuress tore her gaze away from his own, eager to hide her emotions. She didn't need to break down in front of him. She had been doing too much of that lately. She was just so frustrated! She wasn't mad at him, but it was easier to yell at him then admit that she was mad at herself. After all, she felt as if it were her fault Xala was gone. How could it not be?

She quickly spared a glance in the vampire's direction, instantly regretting doing so. He was looking at her with his expression softened, his normally bloodied gaze glowing a light rosy pink. She hated when he looked at her like that: so gentle and caring. She didn't need to be coddled. She didn't want the fuzzy feeling in her chest that came with his gaze either.

"Fionna," he breathed, "it isn't your fault."

What, could he read her mind? "How did you-"

"Know?" Marshall smirked. "You can be an open book sometimes, Fi."

Fionna groaned. "Well you're wrong! I'm not upset and I'm not blaming myself." _Glob_ she was lying. "So you can stop looking at me like I'm a kicked puppy."

Marshall smiled. "Alright."

"And you can stop doing _that_ too!"

Marshall raised his eyebrows. "Doing what?"

"T-that! Smiling!"

"Are you kidding me? Now you're yelling at me for smiling?"

"Yes. I mean no. I mean - _look_ it's just...well It's just-"

"What?"

" _Distracting."_ Fionna grated out. The vampire was really starting to get on her nerves.

Then she realized she _really_ shouldn't have said that. It was as if she could see his ego inflate.

"My smile is distracting?" Marshall repeated, a grin the size of mars gracing his stupidly handsome features. Fionna wanted to crawl in a hole. She felt her cheeks flare up. "Is it too dazzling for you?" He began to float toward her figure teasingly. "What if I do this?" He gave her a wolfish grin which had a boyish and almost playful air around it. "Or this?" He flashed his teeth. "Or maybe this?" The last one was different than the others. It was a smile she had seen rarely on the vampire, one she almost felt was reserved exclusively for her. It was the one he showed her when he was being sincere, no underlying schemes or dirty pranks hidden underneath it. One where it was just the two of them. One where, perhaps both of them took down their walls.

And then, she felt Marshall's hand on her shoulder, solid and reassuring. Like a lifeline, Fionna let it ground her. "We'll find her," he promised, and Fionna wondered how she ended up reducing one of the Night-O-Sphere's most feared leaders into something resembling a hero. No, this wasn't her doing. Marshall had been this way his whole life.

She wondered if his mother knew, deep down in her heart of hearts, that her son was never meant to lead a life of darkness. He was light; he was hope.

It must tear her demon-self apart.

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.

.

The air was still. Fionna almost felt as if that were a bad omen. After all, in a place as topsy-turvy as the Night-O-Sphere it would only make sense that the air around them be more uncontrollable. A storm should be brewing; blood rain should be falling; shrieks should be sounding intermittently in the distance, but no. Instead all Fionna got was still, quiet air, and a chilling sensation prickling the back of her neck.

"Marshall?" Fionna asked, as the two of them flew across the Night-O-Sphere looking for any signs of Xala. Fionna sat nestled against Marshall's back - he had taken the form of a giant bat. It was a bit odd, especially because he was quite furry, but Fionna quickly got used to it. "Do you feel like something totally un-righteous is about to happen?"

Marshall sighed, "You know, for someone who is supposed to be all sunshine and rainbows, you sure think negatively."

Fionna reddened. "I am not sunshine and rainbows! I'm tough as nails! I instill fear into the hearts of-"

"You're wearing a bunny hat."

"Hey! Leave my hat out of this." Fionna tugged on its ears. "You're just jealous."

"Oh yes, that's it. I recruited you as my personal knight because secretly I want your hat. The next time you fall asleep, I'll make my move and grab it!"

Fionna gasped. "You wouldn't."

"Oh but I would." Although she couldn't see his face, Fionna knew Marshall Lee was smiling.

"You know Marshall, I know you're kidding, but part of me feels like you might actually want to steal my hat."

Before Marshall Lee could counter, a high pitch whizzing sound cut through the air. Fionna looked around quizzically, before right before her very eyes an arrow shot up into the air, barely missing her nose. Fionna yelped. "What the hell was that?" came Marshall"s lovely exclamation. "Is someone trying to shoot us down?" As if to answer that question, more arrows came soaring toward them at record speed - Marshall dodged them, albeit frantically. "Oh my Glob, this isn't Peter Pan!" The vampire tried his best to avoid the onset of arrows coming his way, and while he seemed to be managing the act, it was just a matter of time before one of them would nick him. Fionna was actually worried. The arrows looked sharp and if one were to hit him, enough would follow that he may actually be severely wounded - or worse.

"Marshall," Fionna called out, "clearly someone wants to knock us out of the sky. I think we need to go down there and face them head on."

"It's a little hard to not get hit when you are meeting them head on!" Marshall countered. "Are you crazy?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Well, no." Marshall quickly veered to the right. Fionna heard him curse under his breath. "But I don't really feel like getting skewered right now."

"At this rate you're going to anyway!" Fionna closed her eyes. Then, as if Grod sent a message from above, Fionna's fighting instincts took over. Her next words were commanding. "Transform into your vampire self. Hold my body toward the arrows - i'll deflect them with my sword. You just focus on landing us safely."

"Fionna…"

"Do it!"

"Ugh you are unbelievable!" Marshall did as she told him, his matted wings quickly furling within himself and his furry body reverting back to cold grey skin. He did this all while avoiding arrows and manoeuvring Fionna's body so that she was resting within his arms - easier said than done. Then Marshall stopped floating all together and took a nosedive. He wrapped his arms around her middle tightly so that she would not budge, his head resting against her back. As for Fionna, the human girl was deflecting any arrows that came their way. She was unstoppable in this area, performing a feat that should have been impossible for a mere human, yet she did it with ease. In all honesty, Marshall would never get used to her strength. It terrified him; it also excited him.

"Aaaaaaaah!" Fionna yelled: a battle cry ripping out of her throat. They were falling fast, the ground getting closer and closer with every second.

"What exactly was your plan for landing?" Marshall yelled over the wind screaming in his ears.

"I was hoping you could take care of that!"

"You're kidding me! You know, I'm more than just your personal floating device."

"Hit the brakes airboy!"

"I should let you fall," he hissed. He wouldn't of course; he would imagine it countless times, but he would never do it. Grumbling, Marshall did what only could be referred to as "pulling up." Before this, the vampire spared a glance at the ground below them, his red eyes taking in the sight of their attackers.

There were many of them, all the kinds of spineless and skinless demons you'd expect to be aiming arrows at the unsuspecting for no other reason than to practice their aim. They were beady eyed and sickly looking, and all had a bow pulled back far enough that something should have snapped. They were all smiling, rotten teeth on full display.

This isn't what caught Marshall off guard. This was normal. What wasn't was his next sight: sitting against a nearby rock, all tied up and gagged, was none other than Xala.

These demons were gonna pay.

* * *

 **(A/N): Thanks for reading everyone, and I'm very sorry for the long wait. I've had this written for a while now but haven't had a chance to post it. Hopefully you all are still with me.**

 **I would of course like to give a shout out to the lovely reviewers, An Amber Pen and iblamepie. Means a lot!**

 **Until next time :)**


	15. Underhand

Hey...hey you! Yeah you, I called for you didn't I? Well don't just stand there gaping like a fish - get over here!

You thought you could skip out on the rest of my tale, did you? What, are you scared of what may happen? Can't handle the suspense? Do my cliffhangers make you want to rip your hair out? Or are you just too daft to appreciate a good story when you hear it?

No, wait - come back! I'm sorry I called you daft. Of course I didn't mean it. I was just - _hey now, stop with the waterworks -_ look, I'll make it up to you! I promise. Why don't you just sit down, nice and calm like, and enjoy the next installment of this tale? It will cheer you up for sure!

 _Sigh..._ yes I know this story is long…and no, no I didn't know my fly was down this entire time...

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Fionna and Marshall stuck their landing, but amid the sea of smug looking demons who had every intention of ripping the two of them apart, suddenly it didn't seem so celebratory.

Fionna readied her stance, taking out her sword as she did so. Her blue eyes scanned the monsters around her. They were all beastly things, with horns and extra limbs, and razor sharp teeth that looked ready to sink into Fionna's mortal flesh. They were all in their element, there in the barren wasteland of the Night-O-Sphere with its dusty desert-like terrain muted against the bright orange backdrop of a sky. It hurt Fionna's eyes: this stark contrast. Maybe it was intended to. The sphere wanted to make one distorted. Wanted to make someone like Fionna sweat.

Well she would not let it get to her.

She felt Marshall's presence beside her and felt a wave of comfort wash over her. It felt good. In fact, it was almost the same feeling she got when Cake was fighting beside her.

 _Almost._

"Alright ya demon scrum," Fionna paused, her eyes sliding to Marshall Lee, "no offense Marshall."

"Just get on with it," he groaned.

"Right. Listen here, you lot are going to let the witch go-" snickering from the demon party cut her off.

"You honestly think your pleas are going to persuade us to let her go? You've got to be kidding me," one of them said. Fionna growled. Her eyes flashed toward Xala who was tied up on the ground before them.

Xala mumbled something through her gag, her old eyes wide with fear. Worry washed over the Fionna's body. To Fionna's surprise, Xala was instantly kicked in the side by one of the demons for attempting to speak out.

"H-Hey!" protested Fionna. "What are you doing?"

The demons laughed. One of them came forward, his body looming over her own, eyes blackened and teeth sharp. He held in his hairy hands some kind of mallet. "We are doing whatever we want - what are you going to do about it?"

Fionna had enough. She didn't even think as her body prepared its attack.

She moved gracefully for someone barreling down upon their enemy with their sword in two hands, especially when that someone was bellowing out a kind of battle cry, but it was true. Fionna was graceful. She attacked her opponent with precision, dodging any hit that came her way.

It was her tactic to use her opponents brute strength against him, taking a more agile and defensive route. Fionna didn't even have to think about this. Her innate ability for strategizing shone through in the fight, and while Fionna had never been good at putting her thoughts or intelligence on paper, when given the opportunity to perform, she excelled. She was born to fight. To move. To act. She was impulsive - _but she needed to be._ Her fighting instincts were crucial. So when the demon fighting her attempted to crush her human form under the weight of his weapon, all it took from Fionna was a moment to follow the swing of his hammer, move with it as if she was riding a current, reposition her body ever so slightly, and counter the attack. She used the force of the demon's attack against him, latching on to his arm and launching him over her head. He face planted into the sand with a grunt.

As soon as the remaining demons witnessed this take down, they immediately stopped playing nice. Instead of doing the honorable thing and letting each other fight Fionna one at a time, they charged all at once. That was fine by Fionna. In fact, she welcomed it. Cracking her knuckles, she readied herself for her opponents. She would save Xala or die trying.

Marshall for his part was engaged in battle as well. His weapon of choice was his axe base, which was in his opinion, way better than a sword. After all, it had dual functions: butt kicking and groove making.

His opponent (luckily for him his battle was one on one) was a scruffy looking demon, with pale milk colored skin and dark thorns splattered on the top of his head in place of hair. His eyes were black in a way that made his pupils bleed into his irises, and they were rimmed in red. His teeth could have been stolen from a shark. He was damn right unsettling to look at - had a real ugly mug on him.

He was just your average citizen of the Night-O-Sphere.

Marshall swung his axe-base, aiming for his most vital parts, but the demon was fast and was able to dodge the hit with ease, along with the ones that followed. He was agile, Marshall could give him that. "Do you have any idea who I am?" Marshall Lee implored, continuing with his attacks. Marshall swung again - this time the tip of the weapon was able to slash a hole in the demon's attire, but that was about it. _Tch,_ Marshall cursed under his breath.

"Who you are?" the demon leered. Even his voice was disgusting: watery and soft. "Everyone knows who you are, _your hein-ass."_ He laughed.

"Then you should know what you're doing is treason." Marshall swung harder this time. Still, he missed. The demon was too fast. Marshall had heard of bandits like him before. Usually they were ex guards, ones that had managed to break the oaths they made in the trust ceremony. Normally that act would kill their minds, however it wasn't unheard of. Incredibly rare, sure, but not impossible. It was sometimes believed that they had outside help.

The demon dodged another one of Marshall's attacks by jumping backwards. He then proceeded to pull out two sharpened daggers, smirking as he did so. "Not everyone in this sphere can be swayed with empty words such as that. _Treason."_ He spat. "What malarky. The demons of this realm deserve a much better leader than a half breed like you." He charged. "The Night-O-Sphere has been far to tame under your rule, King Marshall. We long for darkness!" He lunged, plunging one of his daggers toward Marshall's innards. The vampire managed to dodge, and swung his base in an attempt to knock his opponent back. He managed to graze the demon, but unfortunately for Marshall, he didn't see the other dagger soaring through the air. The demon must have thrown it while Marshall was dodging.

"Shit," Marshall cursed as he felt the cool metal enter is skin - right into his side.

"Marshall!" Fionna called, her attention instantly drawn to the silver blood bleeding from the vampire's wound. She was distracted, and one of the demons managed to land an uppercut straight to her jaw because of it. She grunted with the impact.

"You idiot!" reprimanded Marshall. "Don't focus on me!"

Fionna shakily got to her feet. She spat out some blood of her own. "That's not an option you butt. I'm your general remember? I've pledged my allegiance to you! If you get hurt, it falls on me." She stopped talking in order to block one of the swords that came her way. She pushed the demon back, quickly ducking as another hit arrived. Marshall could see she was struggling to fend off her opponents, but even so, she was managing. Slowly but surely Fionna was gaining an upperhand.

If she could fight off a hoard of these demon scums, then Marshall Lee had no excuse not to defeat one. He was the king of this sphere, damn it! "Thanks Fionna," Marshall said, "but I think I'll be fine." With that, he began to transform.

Fionna was always amazed at the way Marshall Lee could morph and change into something so very different. It was strange to think that one moment, she would be staring at the lanky yet sturdy form of his body, and the next, he had grown three times his size in both length and width. She was used to the sight of his regal face, which while it did have an air of demonic prowess to its lineaments, was still terrifying to see change into nothing but fur and teeth and _bat_. The sight of matted almost decayed wings was equally as offsetting. But at the same time, Fionna could admit that she was fascinated by the raw power and determination the form emitted. Marshall clearly intended to instill fear in the hearts of his opponents.

She couldn't look long. Fionna had her own battle to fight. Keeping this in mind, Fionna reluctantly tore her head away from Marshall Lee, instead focusing on dodging the onslaught of sword swipes and flying fists that came her way. She would have to trust that Marshall could handle the battle on his own, even if the sight of the knife sliding through his skin made something heavy sit in the pit of her gut.

Marshall Lee was delighted to see his opponents eyes widen a little at his transformation. His kingly pride swelled a little at the prospect, which certainly helped his confidence. Still, Marshall Lee was not naive to think that the demon was scared of him. Every demon in the Night-O-Sphere had some sort of supernatural power that was there to aid them in any sort of battle. Call it a defense mechanism, but demons were born with an innate ability to gain an upper hand. They had evolved in a way that allowed them to enter any quarrel with a certain trick up their sleeves. Sometimes more.

Where Marshall's choice of power was his ability to transform (among other vampire quirks), he figured that the demon he was up against had some sort of super speed. After all, he could dodge any attack, and Marshall would only have to blink before he was countering with an attack of his own.

"So," the demon grinned, "this is why all of the girls go crazy after you." He gave Marshall a once over. "Let's see if a bat bleeds the same way that a demon does." He pulled out another dagger and began his offensive.

Marshall's wings flapped. "You can try," he growled. The king watched as the demon grew nearer, but rather than shy away from the dagger being held toward him, he welcomed it. The demon plunged the cool metal through Marshall's fur, attempting to pull it out for another stab, only to find that it would not budge.

"What th-" the demon was cut off as he felt Marshall's hands wrap around his arms.

"You shouldn't underestimate this form." Not even a knife to his gut could stop him. With that, Marshall lifted the demon off of the ground, before slamming him back down, hard enough to hear a few bones cracking.

"Oof!" the demon grunted, coughing up blood. For the first time since their fight began, Marshall saw fear swimming in those darkened eyes.

"Let's see you try and run now." Marshall Lee kept going, swinging the demon's body around as if it were weightless, relishing the sound of every smack against the barren ground and every drop of blood that followed. He shook the demon out, watching as the weapons he owned fell to the floor from their hiding places.

Then, he took the demon by the neck and took to the skies. The frightened look that adorned the demon's face pleased Marshall more than any treasure in the world, and he felt a certain bloodlust that he hadn't felt in _years_. "You threatened an innocent citizen of this realm," Marshall said, taking on of the demon's arms and pinning it to his back. "You dare oppose your _king_." He did the same to the other one, and just for kicks, bent one of his fingers back until he howled. "And your _lovely_ friends attack my knight." Marshall hovered his teeth over the demon's neck, sensing the way his blood flowed underneath the skin, the way it ran cold. "What shall I do to you?"

The demon's breathing was labored, but he was still an admirable opponent, and would most likely keep fighting until he could not open his eyes. Because of this, he still had a little more bark to his bite. "You really are a fool. You talk of your knight so highly, acting as if anyone who touches her should be given a thousand deaths, but who was the one who left her alone while you faced me? She's just one girl against a horde of demons. You were stupid enough to fall for our ploy. If she dies it's on you."

"That's not true!" Marshall denied.

The demon smiled. "We will crush her."

In a bout of rage, Marshall snapped the demon's neck, but not before the demon had coughed up another dagger and spat it directly at Marshall Lee. Marshall felt the knife enter his skin, into his own neck (how ironic). Maybe it wasn't enough force to pierce through the matted demon fur, but it had nicked him, and the dagger must have been laced with some sort of poison or potion, because Marshall felt his form slowly leaving him.

And then he began to fall.

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.

 _A small girl was running._

 _Her feet were too big for her little form, and she kept tripping over them, her face red from exertion. She looked so weak, this chubby baby-faced human, and yet she still managed to put everything into her strides, pushing herself to keep going._

 _From the depths of her guts, as if she were reaching inside herself to pull out everything she had, the girl bellowed, "LEAVE MY SISTER ALONE!" Her tiny fist swung, hitting the jaw of the woodland creature hovering over a cat. The fox howled in pain._

" _What the hell!? Are you insane?" he asked, scurrying away from the two of them. The girl continued watching him, until she could no longer see the orange of his fur in the distance. She then turned to the cat on the floor, who was cradling her tail._

" _Fionna? What are you doing here?" the cat asked, sniffling. Her big eyes watered over._

" _Dummy," the girl, Fionna, said, "I'm here to protect you." Her small hand reached for her sister, patting her on the head. The feline scrunched up her face._

" _I'm the older sister! I can take care of myself. It's not my fault that mean 'ol fox decided to step on my tail. Besides what if you got hurt?"_

 _Fionna cocked her head to the side. "I don't know...I wasn't thinking. My body just moved on its own." She smiled a big toothy smile. Most of her teeth were missing. "Now, let's go back home, Cake."_

 _As the two of them walked back home hand in hand, Cake couldn't help but think how lucky she was to have Fionna as a sister. Someone who cared for her - who was willing to fight for her. From now on, Cake was going to be the one to watch out for the human._

" _My body moved on its own."_

 _You really are clueless baby, Cake thought, sneaking a glance at the blonde, your body moved like that because you care._

 _When you move unexpectedly...when you don't even have to think to react...when you have someone you want to protect...it's called love._

 _._

 _._

 _._

The demons Fionna fought against were tough, Fionna could give them that. They were agile, precise, and showed no mercy to the human before them, and while Fionna always welcomed a challenge, she was beginning to tire. There were four of them, and that meant that she had to constantly keep up a defensive. There was no room for an attack on her part. Even if she managed to block one of the demons and have an opening, it was nearly impossible for her to counter before another attack was coming at her from another side. Fionna could handle it, but in all honesty she felt completely out of her element. She was used to fighting one on one battles, after all.

Fionna's breathing became heavier. _Come on,_ she thought, _do this for Xala._ It was no use though, she couldn't dodge every hit, and all the demon's had to do was be persistent and they were bound to land a vital hit sooner or later. One of them managed to slice her leg with the blade of his sword, and she cried out in pain. Another one took advantage of her sudden distraction and latched onto her side, biting her shoulder. Fionna flung her off, only to have the next demon slice her arm. She didn't even want to think of the demon firing arrows at her.

It wasn't fair. She was just one person. She had no armor, her sword wasn't the best quality, and she was alone. Why did she ever think she could defeat a horde of demons? She was so stupid!

...No. No, she wasn't stupid. She was a knight; more than that, she was a human.

And humans never gave up without a fight.

"Enough!" she bellowed, waves of anger emitting form her aura. Something within Fionna - something resembling a spark that took flame and began to grow and burn and _move -_ emerged, and suddenly she was not some small girl battling against the likes of demons, but she was a maverick. Like a great wave, Fionna washed over her opponents, parrying her sword and slashing with such great force and veracity that they began to falter. She overtook them to a point where they were the ones defending, taking steps back as she stomped down their previous confidence. The demons were in shock. How? How could this mere mortal be so...so... _worthy?_

How?

Fionna raised her sword up high, and in the gleam of the rusted metal she looked like something out of a legend. This human, she was the one meant to lead this sphere into the light.

Demons hated the light...so why did this feel so...so..warm? So comforting?

Why did they welcome it?

Fionna knocked their weapons out of their hands, disarming them with one final swoosh. She then pointed the tip of her sword before them. "Give up," she demanded, "or I will not be able to spare your lives."

The demons were petrified. They wanted to move, to bite her flesh, to spill her blood, _to make her feel pain,_ and yet, they could not. The authority Fionna gave off was too much. They had never felt this before.

In the blinding light of Fionna's heroic aura, they fled.

Fionna watched them go, before nearly collapsing on the ground. _Everything_ ached. She leaned against her sword, trying to process everything that happened. Then she remembered Xala and quickly rushed to the witch's side. She went to work undoing her gag and ropes.

"Fionna!" Xala exclaimed, once she was freed. "You did it!" Fionna offered her a smile.

"Yeah! I-" she faltered. Her eyes scanned the battlefield. "Wait a second...where's Marshall?" Both him and the demon he was fighting were nowhere to be found.

And then Fionna looked up, only to find Marshall Lee's body falling from the sky. She felt her heart stop. "Marshall!" Fionna cried. "Hang on!"

It was such a staggered motion, his fall. He had mostly returned to his vampire form, save for random tufts of fur that emerged from his skin and the wavering wing that he tried desperately to make catch an air current in hopes that he could slow himself down. It was no use though, nothing was working. He could only do so much to stop himself from becoming a pancake when he landed. Fionna's eyes widened as she saw the sparkles of silver blood trailing from his wound as he descended.

And then she was running.

She put everything into her strides, trying to gain enough speed to reach Marshall before he landed. She had to save him. She _had to._ He was nearing the ground. He was almost going to land. Fionna pushed harder, and at the last moment lunged for him, holding her arms out from her body. _Come on,_ she thought, _come on!_

She caught him. Her arms circled around his torso and she let her own back hit the floor in his stead. It hurt, and the damn vampire truly was heavy. Even so, she caught him.

Marshall wearily opened his eyes. "F-Fionna?" he asked.

Fionna was exhausted, but she found some energy within her to answer. "Yeah?"

"Why would you do that? I could have smashed you." He rolled off of her.

Fionna smiled. "I'm sorry, I guess I wasn't thinking." She met his gaze. "My body moved on its own."

Marshall couldn't help the blush that ran to his cheeks. "...Idiot," he mumbled. ( _I was worried about you)._

 _._

 _._

 _._

Fionna and Marshall Lee supported each other's weight as they made their way to Xala. Marshall, for his part, was incredibly weak from the dagger wound, and while he wasn't exactly poisoned, it still meant it would take a little while for his powers to return. As for Fionna, well, her wounds weren't the prettiest sight either.

Xala's face contorted with worry at the sight of them. "Oh my, are the two of you okay?" she asked.

"We should be asking you that," Fionna replied. "You were the one who was kidnapped."

Marshall nodded. "Yeah and by scoundrels no less. Those demons are known around these parts for being trouble, even for Night-O-Sphere standards," he said with a wince. It hurt him to speak.

"You don't think they'll come back do you?" Fionna asked, worried. "I mean, now that they know where you live Xala, I'm afraid they'll try seeking revenge. Maybe it isn't safe for you to go back to your house yet."

"Nonsense!" Xala said, a bit too quickly. Fionna frowned. The witch grimaced. "Er, you don't have to worry child. After all, you two kicked their ever living butts! They'd be stupid to return after all that. Besides, now I know what kind of hexes to put on my house so that there will be no more breaking and entering."

"I guess…" Fionna looked uneasy. "But aren't you a little bit worried? Maybe you should stick around with us a little longer."

"No, please, while your offer is very generous, I can not impose on you." She wet her wrinkled lips. "It would go against my witchly beliefs."

Fionna shared a look with Marshall Lee. The adventuress was still worried about Xala, and it showed on her face. Marshall sighed. "Well, we are accompanying you back to your cottage," he said. "After that, we must leave for the castle. You wouldn't be able to come there with us anyway." Fionna looked like she wanted to argue, but Marshall kept speaking. "We will also be helping you clean up the damage to your house and make sure the hexes you set are in order."

"That's fine with me," agreed the witch.

Fionna sighed. From beside her, Marshall leaned over to whisper in her ear. "I know you are worried about Xala," he spoke. The closeness of his body made Fionna's head spin and she couldn't control the surge of butterflies that erupted in her stomach from the low rumble of his voice. "But I promise, she'll be fine. Those demons won't be going after anyone for a while. Besides, you have a prophecy to fulfill - we don't have time to waste. Xala understands this."

She wasn't happy with it, but Fionna reluctantly nodded. "Okay," she said.

The party slowly began making their way to Xala's house, beaten and bruised, but alive. They were warriors, and no amount of demons were going to stop them.

But from behind Fionna and Marshall, Xala's features grew sour. Inside the witch's mind, there was something hidden underneath the surface, threatening to spill out. A razor sharp voice ripped through her mind - or should I say Jerkin's mind.

 _Just you wait Fionna the human. You may have bested my men, but I won't be so easily swayed. I will crush you. I will take your pretty little head between my teeth like the prey you are. I will make you bleed, will make you beg for Marshall Lee to come save you, and right when you think that there might be even a smidge of hope, I will take that light away. You will see darkness. YOU WILL FEEL THE TRUE POWER OF THE NIGHT-O-SPHERE._

 _Just you wait._

 _When you least expect it._

 _I will be coming for you._

Jerkins couldn't kill her now. However, once they were safe within the confines of the castle, he would paint the walls red with her human blood.

Fionna turned her head toward who she believed was Xala. She smiled. "You coming?" she asked.

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Hana Abadeer paced back and forth within her chambers. Her face was pensive, and it would be clear to any passerby that this demon of a woman was in deep concentration, but after a while her footsteps came to a halt, and the tap tap tapping of her heels against the stone flooring grew silent. She turned toward her mirror.

"Fionna the human is Prince Gumball's knight," she said, as if she were summarizing something from a textbook. "Not only that, but one of his most trusted knights as well." Her red eyes flashed in realization. "Everything leads back to him. Even in the prophecy...it's Gumball who must hand me the amulet. As for me, it is my role to make this possible." Hana reached her hand outward toward her reflection, mere centimeters away from the smooth reflective material. She was always so close to her goals, but somehow...they always felt so out of her reach.

Not this time.

"The prophecy is nothing more than a warning," she said. "It says nothing about the outcome. If Fionna's job is to fight me, then it is my job to make this fight happen. As for the results...that is up to us."

Nothing was set in stone.

So Hana smiled to herself, all teeth and laughter stuck in her throat, and began her plan. She positioned herself into a sitting position, and then closed her eyes.

And as she did part of her mind seeped into the shadows, traveling toward the surface of Aaa.

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.

.

Hana saw everything: rolling hills, treacherous mountain ranges awash in snow, lava beds and endless seas; she saw the land's creatures, its animals and plants and sometimes its ghosts, villages and castles and a multitude of royal entities that Hana could not wait to dethrone, and then, _oh how Hana smiled_ , then she saw the Candy Kingdom. Hana supposed that Prince Gumball's kingdom was one of the most revered throughout the land, and it showed. The castle grounds literally sparkled. It's sugary citizens walked around with frosted smiles adorned on their powdered faces, skipping through their town and laughing as if drunk off maple syrup. It was disgusting really, the way these creatures followed Gumball so blindly, their faces turned toward his so called excellency in blissful ignorance-filled trust. How Hana hated them, with their goody-two-shoe filling and their need to be comforted by Gumball's words. Her citizens didn't need to be coddled. They were strong, and they wanted a strong leader too: someone who could be exalted in their eyes _because_ she was ruthless. So seeing all of this _happiness_ , if that's what they wanted to call it, made her sick.

 _I better hurry up and find Gumball,_ Hana thought. As if granting her wishes, the doors of the castle suddenly burst open, revealing the worried figure of the Prince himself. Behind him, banana guards scurried to catch up, tripping over each other and bumbling like fools. Hana rolled her eyes. "Prince Gumball!" they called. "Stop, you can't go after her!" Gumball seemed to ignore them, but it wasn't until a piece of apple pie came soaring through the air to hit him on the back of the head that he turned around. Another figure moved into the picture, this one shorter and fatter than the others. She was wearing a nurse's uniform. "Nurse Poundcake," the guards cried, "tell him!"

"Did you just throw a pastry at me?" Gumball asked incredulously.

"Of course! It was the only way you'd stop to listen to us. Now quit being ridiculous and come back inside the castle," she reprimanded.

"You don't understand." Gumball's voice wavered. "I've done something horrible. Cake is never going to trust me again! I have to get her back. She's family!"

Nurse Poundcake clicked her tongue. "If you go near her she'll claw your eyes out. You know that." Gumball's body deflated.

"I alerted the gumball guardians on her," he said hoarsely.

"She was in your private chambers. She had royal documents, _of course you did._ There are procedures one must adhere to in times of crises."

"But I'm worried about her."

"And she's worried about Fionna." The nurse came over and squeezed his arm reassuringly. "She's her sister after all."

Hana's eyes widened. _So,_ it would seem Fionna had a sister. Another human perhaps? Odd, with a name like Cake, Hana thought they were talking about another one of Gumball's citizens.

Gumball sighed. "I just don't know what is going on in that cat's head sometimes. She never listens to me."

Hana groaned. _Of course she's a cat._ Yet another reason for her to hate this realm.

"And now I may have lost her too," Gumball finished, reluctantly withdrawing to the castle, his guards and the nurse trailing slowly behind.

Well, the exchange certainly was interesting, Hana could admit that, especially after finding out Fionna's sister had apparently betrayed Gumball. This was perfect. Maybe this little fact could he used for her benefit. Hana's mind seeped back into the shadows, this time with a new target in mind.

She was going to get the kitty's help.

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 **(A/N): Sorry for the long wait! I tried making this chapter a but longer than normal to make up for it. Anyway, thanks for reading as always :) shout out to the reviwers: An Amber Pen and iblamepie. Its always lovely to recieve such nice words.**

 **Until next time!**


	16. Reciprocity

In the land of Aaa there have been rumors that demons are not capable of crying.

It is sad to imagine such a fate: to bottle up emotions of grief and sorrow, never creating a waterfall of catharsis that releases every bad thought and worry from your mind. Crying can be therapeutic, and while we often hide it behind the palms of our hands or turn our faces away from the sight of others, the action itself is nothing to be ashamed about.

After all, everyone cries.

But how could a demon be moved to tears? They do not think like us, the rumors declare, they are not our kind. Where we shed tears in the face of death and pain and misfortune, they revel in it. They yearn for it, even: the slow satisfaction that comes from knowing that someone else has received a fate far worse than your own. And when they themselves are on the side of misfortune, it becomes a game to them. How can they return after their fall from grace? How can they retaliate? Is revenge an option? _Of course it is!_ Really, failure for them is just another excuse to take their frustrations out on the weak, and then they have nothing else to be worried about.

I'm afraid that's how the surface sees this class of creature. For them, demons will always be associated with negativity, and with ill will and evil, and for the life of me I have never understood it. _I know demons._ I know that yes, they have been brought up with a yearning for terror and misfortune, and yes there are some who take pleasure in knowing that their hands may have the power of taking another's life, _but they are not alone_. I have never met a species here in Aaa who have been worth the title of perfect.

Besides, behind every closed door lies something never before seen.

I know this. I know it because I've seen tears fall gracefully down the sunken cheeks of demon kind and again in rivulets and rivers and uncontrollable waterfalls.

I have seen Marshall Lee: that far away look in his eyes, always remembering, always yearning to forget. The cheeks of his pallid face have been graced with droplets of water more than one occasion.

But then again, his tears are different from other demons: his tears seem sadder.

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It was midnight. Cake would have retired to her bed long ago, but with everything that had happened, she couldn't sleep a wink. She was nervous, her fur standing on edge and a certain shake to her movements. She kept checking the blinds.

It was true that she had long escaped the Candy Kingdom, but maybe her treehouse wasn't the best place to hide. Even if she didn't have to worry about banana guards coming after her, betraying her prince was a capital offense, and someone was bound to pursue her sooner or later.

She paced around their living room for what seemed like an eternity - BMO was beginning to worry. Cake was about to make an everything sandwich to kill her nerves and hopefully give her fuel to plan out her next course of action, when she thought she spotted something fly past her window. It was fast and hard to make out, but something had _definitely_ been there.

Something about the smell of the air made her fur stand up higher.

Clutching her tail, Cake carefully made her way to the open window, her heart beating wildly and her mind on high alert. She squinted her eyes shut, afraid that if she opened them, something would be waiting on the other side. Eventually, when she gathered enough courage, she made her way to the window and opened her eyes quickly.

Nothing was there.

Cake noted the dark blue hue cast around the terrain outside, noticed the grass dancing with the wind and the quiet stillness of the night. The moon was out, bright and picturesque, and Cake thought that she might be able to breathe again.

Until she felt a tap against her shoulder.

Cake screamed, loud and high pitched, scrambling to move away from whatever the heck touched her. She flailed her arms around for good measure. Finally, when she felt that she distanced herself enough from the culprit, Cake readied a shaky fighter's stance. She was met with a laugh.

"Are all felines as easy to scare as you are?" they asked. Cake tried to focus on whoever was talking, but it was hard to see from the tears in her eyes. She quickly wiped her face, and as her vision returned, Cake screamed louder.

A demon was here. A demon was actually here.

"Oh stop with the screaming," the figure - demonesque with dark hair, blue skin, and terrifying red eyes, told Cake.

Now normally, Cake was a fighter, and a strong role model for her younger sister, but sometimes...Cake could be a real scaredy cat. She backed into her wall, desperately trying to keep from passing out. "I-I," she stammered, "I don't...who are you!?"

The demon smiled. Cake took in the sight of her. She was...well pretty, in a mature and regal way, but also unsettling. She had wide open eyes framed in dark black. Striking and bold. Her hair was pinned up, and little strands of it framed the shape of her face, kissing the tops of her high cheekbones. She had blue skin. Her lips were red, and while for some that signified passion or beauty, for Cake it suggested something more like blood. Perhaps she was coming back from a kill. She wore a smart business-like attire: adorned on her body was a black blazer and skirt combo, with a white neatly pressed blouse underneath and black heels. Her demeanor screamed authority. Her presence demanded attention. Cake was unable to look away from her, even though she wanted nothing more than to get the heck out of there.

And then, she spoke, and it was if any and all internal thoughts washed away from Cake's mind. All that was left was space to listen. "My name is Hana Abadeer," the demon drawled, "pleased to meet you, Cake."

Cake's knees wobbled. "A-abadeer? As in...Night-O-Sphere Abadeer?" she asked. She whimpered. "H-how do you know who I am?"

Hana wasted no time. "I have much to tell you, cat." She took a step closer to Cake's trembling figure. "But let's just say it starts with a little girl named Fionna."

Hana barely had time to block Cake's claws as her body came soaring toward the demon. She looked feral. Deranged. "What," Cake seethed, all of her previous fear vanished, "do you know about my sister?"

Hana smiled. "Oh I'm so glad you have not disappointed me thus far my pet," she spoke. She picked Cake up by the scruff of her neck, before tossing her back against the wall. It wasn't hard enough to hurt Cake severely, but enough to get the cat's attention. "Now why don't you calm down while I tell you everything you need to know." Hana's smile grew. "Okay?"

Now Cake wasn't stupid. She knew that the woman before her - the demon before her - was trouble. She knew it the second she laid eyes on her, but she'd be damned if she was going to step away from any information regarding her sister. If there was even a smidge of hope, Cake would pursue it.

"Alright," Cake agreed, pulling herself up from the floor and sauntering toward her kitchen. "But this kitty's gonna need something to calm her nerves. If you're interested in a beverage that's not the blood of your enemies, you'd better speak up."

"Funny," Hana deadpanned. She watched as Cake teetered around in the small kitchen area, pulling out a carton of milk from the refrigerator. She went to retrieve a cup from one of the drawers, but couldn't quite reach the shelf. To Hana's astonishment, Cake's fur began to stretch, her white little paw suddenly growing in size and moving like taffy. It was a neat little trick for sure. Hana licked her lips. "How did you pull that off?" she asked, the gears in her scheme already turning.

"Oh that?" Cake stopped preparing her warm milk in order to give Hana her full attention. Well she was bound to ask sometime. "I'm kind of magic."

Hana's smile grew greatly. "What else can you do?"

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.

The sight of the Abadeer castle was not a welcome one - not to Fionna, whose only memories of the place involved being prisoner. She hadn't planned on returning, not when she'd been escaping, and certainly not afterward. Fionna supposed, however, that she had no choice after she pledged her allegiance to Marshall Lee, but it didn't make her any less wary.

The castle was pitch-black, extravagant, grand, and any other adjective associated with the word ostentatious. This was normal. In Aaa, most castles were a symbol of exaltedness. However, the Abadeer castle differed from these in that it wasn't as welcoming, nor cheerful. There were swarms of demons guarding the skies, and the grounds, and anywhere in between, suggesting a lack of trust or perhaps a thirst for violence. A large mote surrounded the fortress, huge lava beds in the place of rushing water. Every so often, jets of flame would rise up as if to replace the stereotypical chomps of crocodiles. There was naturally a drawbridge, but it was not down. There was no room for citizens to declare their grievances, and certainly no place for any traveling countrymen. The castle was indeed an iron gate meant to keep the Abadeers and their power away from the likes of demons and monsters and any other form of citizen that graced the Night-O-Sphere soil.

As a righteous knight, this troubled Fionna greatly. The injustice seeded into the land made a fire burn in her veins: a insatiable anger spread throughout her body. These demons, despite their disturbing forms, their unsettling movements, and even their tendencies for evil, deserved some form of interaction with their ruler. They deserved communication and not in the form of declarations of their country's plans for war.

The truth was, the Night-O-Sphere needed something more than a King or a Queen - it needed a leader.

But that wouldn't happen, not with Hana, and Fionna found herself looking at Marshall Lee hoping to convey these feelings, but...how could she? How could she tell him the wrongs of his country, the problems, the-the-the lack of care!? He knew of it - _he must have_. Why would she tell him something he understood straight into his bones? Still, Fionna couldn't help wondering, if they did succeed in defeating Hana...would he even try to better the sphere?

She realized she really didn't know much about the vampire, despite the trust ceremony. Sure, she knew about his past, in detail some might say, and had a pretty good reading on his moral compass (it was shaky sometimes but getting better) but even so...he still felt out of her reach. In all honesty, Fionna wanted to amend this. She wanted to know his stances on the future, and how much he actually cared for the sphere and for the people in it. She knew he resented it here and had bad memories of his mother and what their family name symbolized, but would he be willing to put aside all of that in hopes of leading this sphere into the light?

These thoughts had been racing through Fionna's mind much of the way back to the castle, among other things. Come to think of it, those other thoughts seemed far scarier than the prospect of learning Marshall's thoughts on politics. Fionna began wondering about a different side of Marshall Lee. What was his favorite color? His favorite red food? Did he always have that haircut? What would he even look like with short hair? These questions grew into fantasies, ones that involved Marshall's groggy face in the morning, perhaps sitting in her kitchen with a cup of coffee (dyed red of course). She thought about him in a bathrobe, with his hair dripping wet and a scowl on his face, because she never really pictured him liking baths. After all, Cake sure didn't. She...she thought about him meeting Cake, maybe the two of them fighting over who got to be player one on BMO's newest game, and later all three of them sitting down for some spaghetti pie. Fionna imagined Marshall Lee's silhouette against Aaa's orange painted sky at sunset, and maybe her own steps making their way toward him.

She pictured him in her life.

This scared her more than anything, because, what if after everything - if they did save the sphere and lead it away from darkness - Marshall needed to be the one to rebuild? What if...what if Marshall had to truly become King? He wouldn't be with her. She'd return to Aaa, back to Cake, back to Gumball - to her home. What if he couldn't come with her? What then?

...Would he even want to come with her?

These thoughts hurt her, but rather than breaking down, Fionna resolved to keep her head held high. She pushed her shoulders back and jutted out her chin. If that really was the case, she wanted to spend her last moments with Marshall Lee fighting by his side.

She turned toward him. He must have felt her gaze on him, because he met her eyes, and something sparked between the two of them. Trust. Hope. Determination. His adam's apple bobbed. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Fionna drank in the sight of him: his sharp jaw and regal features, the strands of his raven colored hair and the points of his teeth. The red in his eyes was deep and dark, swimming with emotion, and Fionna desperately wanted to dive in them. She bit her lip. "I'm always ready," she affirmed. Nodding, Marshall began marching toward the castle. Fionna followed.

The drawbridge let itself down for Marshall Lee, the guards recognizing their king and scrambling to let him in. Marshall walked with confidence, his shoulders back and his eyes level with the horizon. He did not pay the demons around him any mind; they might as well have not even existed. The guards for their part did not pay Fionna much attention, perhaps assuming that she was Marshall's latest meal. No one touched the King's food. However, other guards recognized her from the cell when she had been kept prisoner, and smiled with mirth. To them, Fionna offered a glare.

The two of them entered the castle doors without trouble, a few servants bowing as they did so, sending the couple their greetings and most humble welcomes. Marshall spouted off some orders for them to fetch some clothing and armor for Fionna, and of course a good meal. The servants nodded before taking off, Fionna yelling her thanks at their behinds. The interior of the castle was extravagant. The first thing that Fionna had noticed was the large staircase leading upward, a red carpet gracing its steps. The railing was guided with gold, and all across the ceiling and walls were various paintings. Different thresholds could be found on various sides of the room, suggesting a number of doorways. It could be a maze for all Fionna knew. She wanted to explore.

"Fionna," Marshall spoke, "I have a few preparations to make, and I need to find my mother." He paused, his eyes flickering across her features. He scratched his neck. "I'd hate to leave you alone but…"

"I don't mind. Do what you have to do," Fionna responded.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You can't go running around."

She puffed out her cheeks. "I never said-"

" _Fionna_ , I know you. You'll want to scout every room in this castle."

"...is that such a crime?"

Marshall's mouth twitched into a smile, which he quickly covered. "Look, I promise I'll give you a tour of the place, but you'll have to wait. Just a little while. Not every guard knows about your position yet, and neither does every member of the help. They'll come after you."

"I can be stealthy."

"Fionna please." He sighed. "Just listen to me for once. I'll even-" he stopped talking immediately.

"What? You'll even what?"

Marshall looked like he hated himself. Pouting, Marshall Lee crossed his arms over his chest and let out a long sigh. "I'll let you stay in my room until I get you."

Now, this interested Fionna greatly. Who knew all of the embarrassing things she could find in there? Maybe he even had a couple of baby pictures lying around…

"You're on!"

.

.

.

Fionna didn't know what she was expecting upon entering Marshall's room. It was funny at first, because she enjoyed the uncomfortable look on Marshall Lee's face when he opened the door, but actually setting foot in the room made Fionna feel...strange. For a person like Marshall Lee, who bottled up his emotions and kept a fairly guarded life, his room must have been a sanctuary, one where he could truly escape the outside world in. Fionna almost felt as if she was invading his privacy. It also made a kind of fluttery feeling burst through her stomach because, well, he trusted her enough to let her in.

The room was smaller than she expected: usually a Prince's (or in this case a King's) chamber was quite large. Instead, Marshall's bedroom was modest for someone of royalty. There was a medium sized bed in the corner of the room, a small bedside table beside it, and a wardrobe. The rest was made up a record player and his guitar. Surprisingly, there were no keepsakes or trinkets - really nothing personal besides the guitar. The walls were painted black. Not even a poster graced them.

"So…" Fionna said, "this is your room."

"Yeah, just try not to touch too many things," Marshall requested. He scratched his neck. "You can listen to the records if you want."

Fionna felt like teasing him. "What exactly are you hiding, Marshall Lee?"

His eyes darkened. "Nothing."

"Nothing? No baby pictures? No secret love letters?" Fionna poked him in the side. Marshall glared at her, which almost made her giggle. He was easy to rile up sometimes, even though it was usually the other way around.

"There's nothing in here that you don't already know about me."

"I love the choice in wallpaper," she said cheekily.

That was all it took for Marshall Lee. He bared his fangs and grabbed her around her middle. Fionna bursted out in laughter. He spun her around once before throwing her on his bed. She bounced on the impact. "Just shut up and wait for me here," he ordered. For a second he stared at her, something unreadable crossing his features. Fionna bunched up his sheets in her hands, meeting his gaze. Marshall shook his head. "I'll try to be quick." He swiftly departed, and Fionna was left in his cave.

Marshall was acting strange, even if she was used to his random bursts of moodiness. _He is probably just worried about me meeting his mother_ , she thought. Fionna frowned. Should she be worried too? She had never met the woman, but she was supposed to be the person Fionna would vanquish. The whole situation was messed up. Fionna sighed and leaned back onto Marshall's pillow. She wasn't tired, but his bed was comfy, and although she would never admit it, she enjoyed the fact that his sheets smelled like him. Ok that was weird, right? Her face burned.

Her eyes flickered to his bedside table: one of the drawers was slightly ajar. Fionna paused. Now, she knew that she wasn't supposed to touch anything, and she knew that Marshall would most likely kill her if he found her delving into his possessions but, she couldn't help it. Curiosity was in her nature, and she was raised by cats.

Her hand crept toward the handle.

With a lack of willpower to stop herself, Fionna pulled the drawer out, her eyes scrutinizing its contents. The first thing she saw was a photo: a small child, who Fionna could only assume was Marshall Lee, was smiling. His teeth were on full display, and he looked incredibly happy. Fionna couldn't help but feel a fondness for the boy, er...for the smaller Marshall (after all, he was cute). However, it was the figure beside him really caught her attention. A man who she could only assume was Marshall Lee's father stared back at her. He was handsome, Fionna noted, with dark skin and kind eyes. He kept his arm around Marshall Lee, but instead of smiling for the camera, was looking down at him with a loving look on his face - he seemed proud. As Fionna was perusing the photo, she suddenly realized something very important.

His father really was human.

It was hard for her, looking at the face of another human: another one of her kind. For as long as she lived, Fionna had never met someone like her, had never so much as seen proof that they even existed, but this, this to her was enough to send her into a shock. Did that mean that Marshall Lee was half human? _No_ , Fionna thought, _one third of him is. The rest is demon and vampire._ She frowned. All her life she had wanted to find her kind. Did having Marshall in her life mean she had achieved that goal? Somewhere underneath his grey complexion, pointed teeth, and blood red eyes...Marshall Lee was just like her.

The thought alone made her head spin.

She quickly put the picture back, trying to get the thoughts out of her head (because soon she might have started wishing she was the one beside Marshall's father instead of him - might have started dreaming of her parents).

Fionna sighed. She rummaged through the rest of the drawer, but found nothing besides a few crumpled up song lyrics and old guitar picks. She gave up and closed the door, laying back against Marshall Lee's pillow. For a moment she closed her eyes, beginning to doze off.

Until she heard the sound of footsteps.

Was Marshall back early? Fionna went still, her heart beating faster. The footsteps seemed to stop near the door, but remained shuffling back and forth. Marshall would have entered if it was him; whoever was behind the door was not the vampire. Ever so carefully and quietly as she could, Fionna began making her way to the door.

She only meant to peer through the keyhole.

This act, however, was thwarted as Fionna tripped over her feet. She fell into the door, the sound of her body against wood emitting a loud _thump_. If that wasn't enough to give her position away, her hand had shot out to stop herself, but fell against the handle instead. The door opened and she tumbled outward, straight at the feet of one of the castle's guards.

The demon smirked.

Fionna had seen many demons upon venturing into the Night-O-Sphere, but somehow the sight of this one made her skin crawl. His eyes were not like Marshall's; they were pitch black, completely drained of any light. The result was something soulless. She couldn't tell where he was looking. The demon's skin was grey, blotchy, and scattered with mushrooms on the top of his head. He smiled at her, his teeth brown and rotten and _sharp sharp sharp_ , enough to make one bleed. Fionna felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Well well well," he drawled, his breath absolutely toxic, "look what I've found: a little mouse snooping around where she doesn't belong." Fionna froze as he took a knee beside her and leaned in. He reached a hand to stroke a blonde strand of hair that had came loose from her bunny hat. The demon breathed in. "Now what is a little human like yourself doing in the King's chambers, hmm?"

Fionna came to her senses enough to slap his hand away. The demon didn't like that. His grin soured. "I have businesses with your King," she declared, scrambling to her feet. She needed to get away from him. For some reason, her heart rate was increasing at an alarming rate. This wasn't normal. She felt strange, and the aura of the demon made her body shiver.

He raised an eyebrow. "Business? In there?" He motioned toward the bedroom. The insinuation did not go unnoticed by Fionna, and she felt her face burn. "Oh, so you are _that_ kind of guest." His smile returned. "I should watch my back then. King Marshall doesn't like when others take his snack."

Every warning sign flashed in Fionna's mind to get out of there. Something about the way this demon was looking at her, as if he knew her, made Fionna's stomach lurch. Her mind told her to run; her body was paralysed.

"It's a shame," he spoke, his breathing becoming faster and his smile growing wider. His next words had an edge to them. "I was planning such fun for the two of us."

His hand began to creep toward her, but before it could reach its target, a voice cut through the atmosphere, "Fun you say? And I wasn't invited?"

Fionna let out a sigh of relief. Marshall Lee had returned.

The demon retracted his hand. He didn't even try to hide his deed. "My King," he said, "you're back."

Marshall walked calmly toward the two of them. As he neared the guard, his eyes darkened. "Jerkins," he noted, "you aren't causing any trouble are you?"

"Of course not," Jerkins smiled. His head turned toward Fionna, and she had to stop herself from flinching. Everything about him screamed trouble. "We were just getting to know each other a little, weren't we?" Fionna refused to answer.

Marshall caught her eyes. "I thought I told you to wait for me."

"I'm sorry," Fionna gritted out. Marshall must have sensed her discomfort, because he returned his attention toward Jerkins, placing his body between the two of them.

"Well thank you for keeping her company, Jerkins," Marshall said. "You can return to your duties."

"Yes, my liege," Jerkins bowed. His smile never wavered.

"Also, you'd be wise to pay this girl more respect. After all, starting today she is officially our newest general."

"Oh my, my most sincere apologies, general…?"

"Fionna," she answered, squaring up her shoulders despite the shakiness in her legs.

"General Fionna," he amended. "I guess we will meet again." The demon gave her a salut, before bowing once more at Marshall Lee. Then, he took his leave, a chuckle echoing softly through the halls.

Fionna turned toward Marshall Lee. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to leave your room I just-" she was cut off as Marshall pushed her toward the door. He slammed it shut and grabbed her by her shoulders. He seemed to be examining her face.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Alarmed, Fionna stuttered, "Er, yeah. I'm fine, I...I'm good."

Marshall frowned. "That demon is bad news. Try to stay away from him. Despite his position as a guard, he is known to be quite seedy. I don't want you to get mixed up in his ploys."

"Okay."

Fionna relaxed against Marshall's touch, but she couldn't stop the unease that settled in her stomach. Something about that demon had shook her in a way that nothing else had upon coming to this sphere. It was those eyes of his: _they looked through her._ He wanted her dead.

"Fionna…" Marshall started, "your eyes are watering." Fionna looked up at him, startled. Indeed, she had now felt the prickling sensation of tears forming and the hot and heavy feeling on her eyelids as she tried holding them back.

Fionna was _young_ , maybe she forgot this, but that of course meant she was not invincible. She had feelings and sometimes she could be sensitive; it came with the package of having a huge heart. Cake had told her this, had said that it was okay to cry. But _still_ , she was supposed to be a general. How could she garner respect if one instance with a guard (and there were surely more of his kind) was enough to instill fear into her? How could she ever defeat Hana?

"You can talk to me," Marshall told her, sincerely and without breaking eye contact with her. He began to kneel before her, _him_ \- a King. It was surreal, but there Marshall was, at her feet, his hands reaching out to hold her own. He took them gingerly, and pulled them together. "You can always talk to me," he promised.

It was there, in the darkened and dimly lit room of Marshall Lee, that Fionna felt, for the first time since coming to the sphere, something resembling ease. Suddenly Jerkins didn't seem so scary anymore, or Hana, or the prophecy, or Marshall Lee's feelings for her, because in that moment, Fionna knew that she had a protector, an ally, a _friend_. She could rely on him, the way she hoped he could rely on her too.

So Fionna felt no embarrassment when she let her tears fall. "I don't know why," she cried out, suddenly jumping into his arms. She let him hold her, let his hand stroke her back and quietly rock her back and forth. She fell into his lap, her legs wrapped around his frame, and maybe it was inappropriate for a general to be doing such a thing, especially to someone of royalty, but Fionna didn't care. She just felt so good within his arms. "Something about that guard, he...he looked like _he knew me_ , like he wanted to tear me apart." She hiccuped. "I have faced monsters far more terrifying than him, and yet somehow...I was paralysed." She felt Marshall shift, the muscles in his back tensing.

"I'll keep him away from you," he promised. "He won't come near you."

She remembered his watery voice, _General Fionna...I guess we will meet again._

Fionna shivered. She hoped Marshall was telling the truth, but at the same time knew that as long as Jerkins was a guard and she, a general - _a knight_ \- there was no way they wouldn't cross paths again...not with an impending war, and certainly not in a castle such as this. Still, for Marshall's sake, she kept quiet. "Thank you," she whispered.

"I mean it," he told her, tightening his grip.

"I believe you."

He held her for a long time, and Fionna felt her heart melt.

Maybe Marshall wanted to lighten the mood, because his next words were bleeding with tease, "I should start charging you for these hugs. I mean, if any one saw a lowly peasant such as yourself in the arms of a King, well, people would start to talk." He gave her a wolfish grin. "Gossip travels fast in a castle." Despite his words, Marshall made no attempt to move.

Fionna suddenly realized just how close they really were. Her chest was flush against his own, her bum resting firmly against his upper legs. She had kept her head buried against his neck as she was crying, but she was certain now that if she were to look up, his lips would be centimeters away from her own. She would be able to trace every line and contour of his face.

Fionna erupted in color. _She would not look she would not look she would not_ \- but of course she did. She raised her head and glanced up at Marshall Lee, traced his jawline with her eyes and dipped her vision toward his lips. They were slightly parted, and she could see the peaks of his teeth from within the cavern of his mouth. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest, and she wondered if he could feel it: the bumping and banging against her rib cage.

It wasn't just her own actions that she became aware of, it was the feeling of his body against her own. His hand, which was splayed against her back, curling at her ribs had suddenly burned. Everywhere he touched her, heat erupted against her body. This was odd, because Marshall should have been cold. He was, but somehow she no longer felt it. Heat was everywhere.

If she leaned in in that moment...what would happen?

" _Fionna_ ," Marshall grated out, his Adam's apple bobbing, and his grip tightening. His breathing seemed labored as well. "You are making this _incredibly_ hard on me."

Fionna remembered his hooded eyes and tightened jaw when he saw her on his bed earlier, and the suggestive look Jerkins had gave her when he saw where she had came from - _I have business with your King_ , she had said. Fionna remembered Marshall's feelings for her...his declarations of affection of...of love.

Fionna had not had time to ponder her own feelings, but did she need to? Wasn't instinct enough?

Fionna licked her lips. "You don't scare me," she told him: a challenge.

Marshall raised his eyebrows. A tingling feeling shot through Fionna's body. "Oh?" he exclaimed. "I don't?"

She brought her hand to rest against his chest. "No."

"Even if I do this?" He pulled her closer, so her lips hovered dangerously close to his own. One little tilt of the head would be all that it would take. "Or this?" He moved a hand toward her waist. Her shirt had ridden up a little, and the cool sensation of his hand on her skin made her gasp. It quickly transformed into burning heat, and _Glob_ the look he was giving her!

"N-no," she forced out.

"I could bite your neck right now," he said. "I could suck your blood."

"I know you wouldn't."

Marshall smirked. "What will I do then?" He paused. "Better yet, what do you want me to do?"

She wasn't expecting that. "Wh-what?"

"You heard me, Fionna. What. Do. You. Want?" With each word his voice got lower and lower, and Fionna felt as if her body might melt. What did she want?

"I want," she breathed. "I want…"

She wanted to save the sphere; she wanted to see Cake again; she wanted to see another human. She wanted a lot of things. But there, in that moment she wanted... "You," she answered.

And then Marshall closed the space between them.

Fionna had never kissed a demon before, but she could say that it wasn't that different from any other kiss she had experienced. Except it was, _Glob it was_. Marshall was like magic, working her body in a way that left her feeling weightless. At first it was a simple kiss, a peck even, but after he had pulled away, Fionna had been the one to initiate another - and boy did he reciprocate. His lips moved with fervor, and her own responded, following his actions and doing her best to keep up with them. She knew he was experienced, but Grod, she didn't think he was that experienced. At one moment, Fionna had to suppress a gasp or two.

She didn't know why she had wanted him to kiss her, except that it was all instinct. Her body had told her what her mind had been suppressing all this time: Fionna had feelings for Marshall Lee.

And why?

Because despite Marshall Lee being the one she vowed to protect, somewhere deep inside him, he had vowed to protect her as well. Reciprocity - it flowed between the two of them like electricity. If she were to fight, he'd fight alongside her. Marshall Lee was no lord in distress, he was a warrior, one that faced danger head on. He was strong, but was not afraid of his feelings, was not ashamed to tell her who he was. He trusted her. Marshall Lee was willing to let her into his life, and maybe it was the human in him, but he was willing to give her his heart.

Fionna wanted to do the same.

So she kissed him, because Fionna had never been good at conveying her thoughts or feelings via word alone; she needed action.

And as Marshall began to lay her body gently against the ground, Fionna blocked out any more thinking.

.

.

.

Fionna stared deep into the mirror of her new private quarters. She had been given a clean set of clothing to wear and armor too. She would not be wearing them yet though, for it was soon time to meet Marshall Lee's mother. For the occasion she was to wear a traditional Night-O-Sphere gown, something to impress her. Fionna was not scared though, not anymore. She had been through too much to flee now.

It was time to face the demon head on.

* * *

 **(A/N): Hey thanks for reading another chapter! Were you surprised? Marshall and Fionna certainly made a rather big step in their relationship, but I feel like the boat was bound to tip sooner or later.**

 **Anyway, shout out to the reviewers: An Amber Pen (thanks for being so supportive yet again) and the guest "Me".**

 **My reply to Me: Thank you ^^ It means a lot to hear that you are enjoying the story! And I'm glad you like the true name of our narrator (you're the first to comment, so I'm glad that there is someone out there who likes my dumb jokes haha).**

 **With that, thank you all for reading and I will see you in the next installment!**


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